


Steve Rogers' Halfway House for Notorious Supervillains

by Lise



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Damaged People Also Not Helping Each Other, Damaged People Helping Each Other, Dysfunctional Relationships, Emotions everywhere, Gen, Hurt Loki, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Loki's a goddamn mess, POV Steve Rogers, Past Torture, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Recovery, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson Friendship, Work In Progress, this being me might end up slashy, weird friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 75,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: While searching for Bucky after the fall of SHIELD, Steve and Sam stumble on something - someone - else.Trying to deal with one traumatized, possibly ex-supervillain houseguest is a big enough challenge on its own. But no one ever said Steve's life was easy. Or uncomplicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I was going back and forth about whether to start posting a new unfinished WIP (other than Life in Reverse) and finally came down on the side of yes, because I have a large chunk of this one already written (two chapters finished and a third in progress) so, you know, why not. This fic has been in the works for a while, floating around and slowly in progress, but now that I'm posting it that means it'll get bumped up to front burner status. (This does not, to be clear, mean that anything else is going to _stop_ updating. I am perfectly capable of working on six things at once, and frequently do.)
> 
> This fic is one of those "self-indulgent" things that I write so often, smashing together a bunch of stuff that I love, including "beating up characters for fun and profit", "weird friendships", and "Steve and Loki interacting in literally every AU I write." It's set post-Winter Soldier in an AU that will become clear very quickly. At the moment I have no plans for it to go anywhere other than gen, but plans change and I am an incorrigible Steve/Loki shipper at heart, so you never know. This first chapter, for fair warning, has a lot of somewhat graphic description of the aftermath of fairly severe torture, so be warned about that. After this chapter that turns down somewhat. 
> 
> Thanks to [portraitoftheoddity](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com) for her shameless encouragement of this fic, and to [ameliarating](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), my incredible beta for this and literally everything else. 
> 
> A note that I hope is unnecessary: yes, I'm aware that Bucky probably cannot fairly be called a supervillain. It makes a catchier title.
> 
> Enjoy.

He’d been in this room for a long time.

There had been people here. He knew that, still, remembered their voices buzzing in his ears, fingers prodding, sharper things. Sometimes they asked him questions, or they had once, though rarely anymore. And not for a while. They’d been gone for a while.

He kept still, though. Waiting. Eventually they would be back. They always were.

The dark was a respite at first, from the light always blazing in his eyes, but now it was beginning to gnaw at him, eating away at his edges. He could barely move, limited by the heavy chains now chafing on his skin. Hunger had started to gnaw at his stomach, and the thirst was an old friend. He bit the inside of his mouth until blood trickled down his throat, but it didn’t ease either.

He wondered how long he’d been here. Maybe forever. He didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been, when his world hadn’t been light and needles and pain. Sometimes he thought…but they were more dreams than anything else, and even those flashes were fading. Everything getting swallowed up in the thud of his own heart. Or maybe not his own. Maybe he’d been swallowed by some great beast and was listening to its heartbeat.

He’d been in this dark a long time and he was starting to wonder if he’d imagined all of it, and it was just him and that heartbeat. _Thud. Thud. Thud._

 _Not a beast,_ he realized. _A tomb. They’ve buried me alive._

He didn’t remember starting to scream, but the noise was a relief, echoing, echoing, echoing.

The dark closed in.

* * *

The bunker was old, but not quite old enough, and looking closely at the door Steve could see signs that it had been opened relatively recently. “Sam,” he called over his shoulder. “Got one.”

Sam trudged over from where he’d been examining another building, eyed the door, and nodded. “Still occupied, you think?” He asked, grin a little crooked. Steve wasn’t sure whether he wanted to say _I hope so_ or the less honest, smarter answer.

“I guess we’ll find out,” he said, pulling the shield off his back and targeting the lock with it, breaking it with a single strike.

Two weeks of searching, of following leads in the file Natasha had left him and information that SHIELD had left as well. Trying to find Bucky, trying to figure out what had been done to him, trying to make sure HYDRA was gone, and not just submerged again. Two weeks of dead ends. Steve was starting to feel a little frustrated.

The lights weren’t out and the air that blew out from the bunker was cold, but Steve was cautious edging inside anyway, keeping his head cocked. A few of these empty bunkers had been rigged, and it was only a few days ago that Sam had narrowly pulled him out of one before it exploded. The whole building was empty, though, and when Steve turned on the flickering lights, everything looked thoroughly abandoned.

“Must’ve bugged out,” Sam said, and if he didn’t sound disappointed Steve could hear the sympathy in his voice. His shoulders slumped.

“Looks like. Maybe they left something, though. Might as well look around.”

They poked around the inside, but HYDRA had been thorough. No scraps of paper, nothing, and Steve was almost ready to admit defeat and leave this place behind as another dead end when Sam called him over. “Hey, Steve. Come look at this.”

Sam was standing in front of another door, this one not just padlocked shut. It looked like someone had put cement around the sides of it, and not a while ago. Recently. Steve frowned.

“Looks like they were trying to hide something fast,” Sam said. “Another room, maybe?”

Like a room with a cryo-chamber, maybe. Or files that would tell him what HYDRA had done to his friend, and how Steve could get him back. “Maybe,” he said. And rolled his shoulders back. “Well, anything that HYDRA’s trying to bury…”

“Probably needs digging up,” Sam finished. “Go at it, Captain.”

Steve set to chipping at the cement with his shield, slamming it into the fresh layer until he suspected it was sufficiently weakened. Then he backed up, braced himself, and rammed into the door.

It burst inwards with the loud cracking of stone, and a wave of fetid air rolled out, stinking of old blood and death. Steve flinched physically back from it, and Sam’s face froze. “That don’t seem so good,” he said, under his breath. Steve peered into the dark, trying to pierce it with his eyes.

He thought he heard something, maybe, very faintly.

“Sam,” he said, simply, tensely, and reached in, groping for a light, shield up. He found the switch eventually, and flicked it up.

Silence except for the hum of the lights. The room was small, just big enough for something like a dentist’s chair with added restraints. There was a refrigerator in the corner, no longer running, and a complicated apparatus above the chair that Steve didn’t want to look at too closely. But nothing living. Sam went over to the refrigerator and opened it, then shut it.

“About ten pints of blood,” Sam said, his voice grim. “Too much for one person to give and be alive. Looks like there was some other stuff, but it’s gone now.”

Steve nodded, slowly. Off to one side there was a second door, this one just locked shut, not sealed. He broke the lock with one sharp strike of his shield, not daring to think, to hypothesize, and pulled the door open. Light flooded into the otherwise unilluminated room.

The thing – the _person_ – huddled in the corner let out an awful, inhuman shriek, curling into itself, hands going up to cover its face – its eyes. The fingers on those hands were ragged and bloody, the knuckles torn down to the bone. _Not Bucky,_ Steve thought, with awful relief, at the lack of a metal hand, and then felt sick, both at himself and at what he was looking at. This room was smaller than the first, not even a cell. It was dark and it smelled like blood and piss and misery, and Steve managed not to rear back through an effort of will. “Holy shit,” Sam said, over his shoulder. “Steve, if someone’s been down here – it’s been at least five, six days since HYDRA took off…”

 _They shouldn’t be alive,_ Steve filled in, but then he remembered HYDRA experiments and stepped into the room, making himself move slowly. “Hey,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “I’m Steve Rogers, Captain America, you’re…”

The person in the cell clawed their way to their feet and tried to press back into the wall, letting out a feral snarl as Steve crossed the threshold, and he froze again as the meager light fell on the angles of the prisoner’s face.

It had been two years, and he looked nothing like he had then, but even with raggedly shorn hair and snarling like a wild dog, Steve could see Loki in that face, no matter how wasted and gaunt. His whole body tensed and he braced for an attack, but Loki stayed where he was, pressed back against the wall, eyes flickering wildly from point to point.

“Steve?” Sam asked, trying to peer past him. “Maybe I should…”

SHIELD had taken custody of Loki after the battle of New York, Steve remembered. Which meant that HYDRA had, apparently. Which meant…

_How long has he been down here?_

“Stay where you are, Sam,” Steve said, when Loki shifted his weight slightly.

“No offense, Cap,” Sam said, “but I am the pararescue here and I’m telling you if we don’t get this guy medical attention-”

Steve didn’t move. “It’s Loki.”

Sam was silent. “ _That_ Loki?” he said, after a moment.

He expected some reaction to his name, but Loki stayed where he was. Steve could see him eyeing the gap at the door like he was trying to figure out if he could slip through it, and he kept noticing – Loki looked starved. The thin rags he was wearing hung off him like drapes, skin waxy and yellowish. His eyes were deeply sunken and looked bruised, and a glance at his wrists showed heavy manacles with raw, weeping skin around the edges.

A glance at his eyes themselves showed…nothing. No recognition. Animal terror and nothing else, and Steve was thinking _two weeks since we took HYDRA down publically. Two_ years _since Loki’s invasion…_

“I’m going to try to approach him,” Steve said, after a moment. “He’s chained up, and I don’t think…I don’t think he’s all…there.”

“Hate to question your judgment, but that sounds like a terrible idea,” Sam said, but Steve was already edging forward again. The terror in Loki’s eyes spiked and he snarled again, hands rising and curled into claws but though Steve tensed there was no burst of magic, no knives. Chains clanked loudly and he thought he saw Loki flinch.

“Loki,” Steve tried, carefully. “Listen to me. Um…” He trailed off. What was he supposed to _do?_ SHIELD was gone, he didn’t know how to get in touch with Thor, and he couldn’t just _leave_ Loki here. Taking him to a hospital sounded like a recipe for disaster, not to mention he wasn’t sure if they would even know what to do with him.

Loki shifted back into the wall and Steve realized that his feet were bare. For some reason, that struck him almost more than the rest. He could see the self-proclaimed god shaking, thin chest rising and falling quickly.

“I’m going to try to help you,” Steve said, taking another slow step forward, after a moment placing the shield on his back so he could extend both hands, palms up. This wasn’t his mission, but he couldn’t… “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Steve,” said Sam, not quite tightly, but he stopped, and Steve suspected his train of thought followed the same lines. Loki snarled at them both, eyes flickering wildly, head swinging from side to side. Steve was beginning to think just knocking him out would be merciful, but he didn’t even know if he could. He remembered punching Loki with all his force in Germany, and it had barely made him step back.

Steve took a step closer and panic surged in Loki’s eyes, his head coming up and his breathing starting to come ragged and too fast. Steve froze, suddenly worried he was going to pass out, but maybe that would be better, maybe…

“Steve,” Sam said, his voice quiet, “I think maybe I should take this. I may not know a lot about alien supervillains, but I do know a fair amount about trauma victims.”

Steve took a step back and the panic eased slightly. “All right,” he said. “Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”

* * *

It was almost a half an hour before Steve managed to get close enough, with Sam’s permission, to break the chains holding Loki to the wall. The minute the last one snapped, he tried to make a run for it, and made it maybe two steps before his legs gave out and that finally, finally, seemed to be enough to put him out like a light.

Steve took charge of carrying his limp and too angular body out. It was late afternoon, still light enough out to get a sickeningly good look at the needle marks on the underside of Loki’s arms, collapsed veins from too much use, and Steve felt a little sick even as he was grateful that whatever HYDRA had been looking for, they didn’t seem to have found it. Sam took a look at him and then went back into the bunker and re-emerged with six bags of blood that he set down before kneeling next to Loki and starting the triage Steve probably should have been doing. “I’m guessing it’s his,” he said simply. “It’s probably been in there too long without refrigeration to be useful, but…I don't know. Seems like we shouldn't just leave it there.”

Steve nodded, feeling a little numb as he looked down at Loki, his eyelids the color of bruises. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting to find, and it just left him with more questions, _new_ questions. Had Fury known about this or had this been solely HYDRA’s move? If it was just HYDRA, how had they managed to slip _Loki_ out from under Fury’s nose? He didn’t think Fury would condone this kind of…this. Or didn’t want to think, anyway.

“What’re we going to do,” Sam asked, and that was the question, wasn’t it? “He’s not doing so well.” SHIELD was gone, and Steve could try yelling at the sky but he didn’t know if that would summon Thor. Which – that was another question, did _Thor_ know about this? He couldn’t, Steve decided. He might not know Thor very well, but he thought he knew him well enough for that.

Steve swallowed. “How bad is he? Can you and me handle it without a hospital?”

Sam grimaced. “How am I supposed to know? He’s an _alien,_ right? I don’t even know what’s normal. But I guess – no, I don’t want to guess. Should’ve known getting mixed up with superheroes was going to get weird.”

Steve took a deep breath. “We can’t take him to a civilian hospital,” he said. “It’s too risky.” He supposed maybe he could call Stark…but that would be risky too, and Steve had no idea if Stark would even be willing to help.

“Military?” Sam asked, but Steve shook his head.

“Can you pull medical supplies together?” He said, closing his eyes for a moment, resigned. “I think I’m just going to have to take this one.”

“Whatever you’re deciding on,” Sam said, “we should probably move. At a vague guess that I have next to no way to substantiate, your alien is going into something that looks a lot like shock.”

“Right,” Steve said. He glanced back at the bunker. “There’s nothing else here. Let’s go.”

* * *

Loki was still out when they got back to Steve’s apartment, but he was still breathing, too, although Sam looked far from happy. Though then again, that might have to do with the situation as much as Loki’s condition. Steve just thanked God none of his neighbors had been out in the halls.

“Do you have a bath?” Sam asked, briskly, almost as soon as the door was closed behind them. “He needs cleaning up or he’s going to make a mess of your couch.”

“A small one, yeah,” Steve said, jerking out of his reverie. “Sorry, I-”

“Set him down in the bathroom and change into something you don’t mind getting dirty. Run a shallow bath - warm but not hot, use the skin on the underside of your wrist to check temperature.” Sam’s voice was all business, and Steve blinked at him a little before nodding.

Steve changed into an old shirt and some pants he’d spilled coffee on. When he emerged from the bedroom Sam had Loki out of the flimsy clothes he had been wearing. Underneath, Thor’s brother was hideously emaciated, livid, ugly scar lines running over his torso. Steve tried not to look too closely, but it was hard not to stare at the almost concave, stretched skin between jutting hipbones, the filth smeared on his skin. He looked like he should have been dead.

Sam looked up at Steve, his expression a little grim. “Put him in the bath and start washing him off. I don’t want to have to deal with an infection on top of everything else.” He stood up. “I’m going to make a list of stuff we’re going to need to deal with the malnutrition and go grab a few other things.”

Steve picked Loki up carefully and deposited him in the tub, half expecting Thor’s brother to wake up and attack at any moment. He felt like a sack of bones inside skin, terrifyingly light for all his limbs. He held Loki’s torso up with one arm as he started running the water, checking the temperature carefully as Sam had instructed, and once he was satisfied leaned Loki back against the wall and looked at his hands, smeared with brown and red.

 _Just do what Sam said,_ Steve reminded himself, and reached for a washcloth, wetting it under the faucet, and began working on getting Loki clean.

What had been bad covered by dirt and blood only got worse revealed by careful washing. The scars down his front were red and inflamed, and overlapped new over older. Layers of skin sloughed off with the filth, so before Steve finished Loki’s chest and shoulders he had to drain the tub and refill it, the water turning almost black. There were scratches on his neck and face that looked like they’d come from fingernails, but the ends of Loki’s fingers were a bloody ruin, what nails were left dropping off mangled fingertips. Bone jutted out everywhere, and washing the matted, unevenly cropped black hair resulted in several clumps coming loose. With his arms clean, the track marks stood out more starkly.

Steve drained and refilled the tub twice more, trying to ignore the small whimpering noise Loki made when Steve tried to wash his face, lips clamping shut and head turning away.

By the time he was more or less satisfied, Steve could feel his limbs shaking and felt like he was going to throw up. The bathroom stank, but the water Loki was sitting in was a pale grey rather than black.

Sam returned shortly thereafter and helped Steve wrap Loki in a towel and bring him out to the living room. He was a little too long for the couch, so his legs dangled a little over one of the arms.

“Do you have another blanket?” Sam said. “Maybe some socks? He doesn’t have the means to stay warm right now and it’s important he does. I’m going to work on setting up an IV. Oh, and - if I get in trouble for borrowing this stuff I’m going to blame you.”

Steve retreated into the bathroom to wash his hands and splash water on his face. _What the hell are you doing, Steve Rogers,_ he thought, staring at his reflection, and then returned to the main room, pulling an extra wool blanket out of the closet and a pair of socks from his dresser. There was something horrifically surreal about putting his own socks on _the_ Loki’s feet, but there was something horrifically surreal about _all_ of this.

Then there was the bandaging – hands first, and Steve followed Sam’s instructions and wrapped both of them until they were puffy white bulges at the end of Loki’s arms. He dabbed antibiotic ointment on the fingernail scratches and held one of Loki’s stick thin arms while Sam found a vein that wasn’t too used to slide the IV needle into. By the time they were done, Steve’s couch looked like a miniature field hospital and Sam looked like he wanted to punch something. “Well,” he said, stepping back and standing up. “It looks like he’s going to stay alive for the moment, anyway.”

Steve wanted to collapse. His stomach was still churning. “Sorry,” he said weakly. “For dragging you into this.”

Sam shook his head a little. “Rolling with you, Steve, gotta say – it’s always full of surprises. Do you want to tell me what you’re thinking?”

Steve rubbed his face and sat down on the chair in the corner. “I didn’t see a whole lot of other options. Or do you think I should’ve just left him there?”

“No,” Sam said. “Not really. But what now?”

“I don’t know. But it’s not just…it’s not just him. The Chitauri weapons technology, that spear thing that he had…those could all be with HYDRA. They’ve still got bases out there.”

Sam gestured at the couch. “You think he’s going to help with that?”

Steve sighed. “I don’t really know. I don’t know what he’ll do. He might wake up pissed off and ready for another go at conquering the world, for all I know. I just couldn’t…” Steve shook his head. “I hope I’m not being stupid.”

“Maybe just a little,” Sam said, deadpan, though he smiled a little when Steve looked at him. “I guess we’ll find out. I’ll back you up, Steve.”

Steve sighed and cast a look at Loki where he was lying limply on Steve’s couch. He didn’t look much like he’d be doing any world-conquering in the near future. “For now…I guess we wait. Who knows – maybe he knows something.”

“About Bucky, you mean,” Sam said, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Yeah,” Steve said after a moment. “About Bucky.”

This was probably the worst idea he’d ever had.

* * *

Steve stayed in the living room, not particularly interested in leaving Loki unattended. Sam refused to leave, so Steve gave him the bedroom.

Loki slept for just over twenty-four hours, breathing so quietly and shallowly that a few times Steve had to check his pulse to be sure he was still alive.

Steve had expected Loki to come around violently, angry or trying to attack. He’d pictured total coherence and clarity, the return of something…at least a little closer to the Loki he remembered. What he got was not even noticing that Loki was awake until he stood up to get a glass of water and realized that his eyes were open. Steve froze, but Loki was just…staring, expression eerily blank.

“Loki?” Steve said, cautiously. There was maybe a faint twitch around the corner of his eye, but no more. Unnerved, Steve reached out to wave a hand in front of his face, but the minute his hand got anywhere close Loki _flinched_ and Steve froze again, though he was still staring blankly up at nothing.

Steve’s stomach turned a little and he drew his hand slowly back. “I can’t tell if you can hear me. Can you…indicate if you can?” He hadn’t spoken, Steve realized, not once. Steve wondered with a sudden jolt if he couldn’t anymore.

Loki’s head turned slowly, very slightly, in Steve’s direction, perhaps a flicker showing through the blank mask. Steve restrained himself from leaping after it.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked, carefully. No response, and Loki seemed to be looking straight through him. “Do you…remember me?” Steve asked, even more carefully, but that didn’t get anything either. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and had to look away from Loki’s face, his eyes dropping down to his arms, the IV that Sam had struggled to coax into overtaxed veins. He cleared his throat and said more firmly, “No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”

Loki’s shoulders and body started shaking, and it took Steve a moment to realize that it wasn’t tears or terror, but silent laughter. Loki’s blank eyes closed and he said nothing. Steve’s skin crawled.

This was all wrong. Everything about this was _wrong._

“You’re going to be safe,” Steve insisted with vehemence, and the shaking stopped. He could hear the shallow rasp of Loki’s breathing, but nothing else. Loki’s head turned away from him again, and that was the end of that conversation.

Steve got up and knocked on the bedroom door, then let himself in. “He’s awake,” he said, when Sam sat up from where he was reading on his back, paperback held open over his face. “Or…sort of. I think.” Steve felt very much out of his depth.

That got Sam’s attention. He dropped the book over the side of the bed and jumped up. “Already? Should’ve been…” After a moment Sam shook his head. “Never mind, I think I’m just going to stop there.”

“Some point I’ll introduce you to Thor,” Steve said, nearly tempted to smile. “As far as I can tell he’s nearly indestructible.”

Which made Loki’s state, Steve realized as he was saying it, that much more concerning. He’d been stiff and uncomfortable after getting smashed into concrete by the Hulk, but he’d still been…lucid. Talking. Steve shut down that train of thought before it could get too far, but then he just found himself wondering if Bucky had been kept in…places like that…between missions.

HYDRA was still out there. If they’d found him…

Sam had stopped moving and was looking at him. “Hey, Steve,” he said. “You okay?”

Steve gave him a slightly tight smile. “I’ll be fine. Anyway, Loki – he…wasn’t really responding to me. I think he could tell what I was saying, but he didn’t talk and he wasn’t really looking…at me.”

Sam didn’t really look surprised. “But he was awake,” Sam confirmed. Steve hesitated, but he had to nod. “That’s good,” Sam said. “I mean. For a given metric of good, considering we still don’t know if your adopted supervillain is going to blow up half the block within the week, but…”

Steve rubbed his forehead. “I know. I know it’s…I really don’t see another option, though. Going to a hospital would be even worse.”

“And you can’t just pretend you never found him. Yeah, I know.” Sam made a face. “You said he went with SHIELD after New York? Better explain everything fast once he wakes up properly. Seems like the kind of guy to hold a grudge.”

“I wish I knew how to get in touch with Thor,” Steve said, expressing the thought for the umpteenth time.

“Aw, come on,” Sam said. “You don’t think we two can handle this by ourselves?” He grinned, a little, and Steve shook his head with a faint laugh. “Come on. Lemme go check on your new friend.”

Loki appeared to have gone back to sleep in the interval, or maybe passed out again. Sam checked a few things on the equipment he’d set up and whistled lowly. “You weren’t kidding. Based on the way things are heading…your boy might be back on his feet in as little as three days, maybe four.” He paused, and then added, “Back on his feet. His head, though…that’s a whole nother ballgame. If he comes around again, though…try to get some food into him. I got some stuff, but milk is probably best to start with.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, thinking of the feral, animal look that had been in Loki’s eyes, and the blankness just ten minutes ago. “I’m getting that impression.” He took a deep breath. “Any advice?”

“If I were you I’d hide my knives,” Sam said, frank and matter of fact. Steve blinked, and Sam gave him a crooked smile. “What’s the first thing you’d look for coming out of being held captive, Steve? A weapon. No one likes being helpless, and by the looks of it, your friend here was helpless for a while.”

Steve glanced at Loki’s face, his head turned sideways on the pillow and mouth set in a small frown, eyes moving rapidly under the lids. Loki wouldn’t need a weapon, Steve thought. If he had his magic, that would be weapon enough. But he just nodded, feeling vaguely guilty for the way his thoughts strayed to Bucky, wondering if he would be like this, when they got him back.

Sam was looking at him again. “Go take a nap, Rogers,” he said. “I can hold down the fort for a few hours. Just come running if you hear explosions, right?”

* * *

He didn’t hear explosions.

It was the screams that woke him up.

It was loud and horrible, the kind of sound someone might make having their lungs ripped out of their chest, and Steve was on his feet and stumbling down the hallway before he could think. “Sam!” he yelled, cursing himself for sleeping while _Loki_ was in his house. “Falcon-”

“Over here,” Sam called, and if he didn’t sound happy at least he wasn’t the one howling like a banshee which meant-

“Is that _Loki?_ ” Steve asked, and then the wailing rose to a fever pitch and just – stopped.

Steve turned on the light and found Sam crouched next to the couch beside Loki, whose body had fallen eerily still though his lips were peeled back from his teeth. There was blood all over the couch and for a moment Steve felt panic but it was just from where he’d ripped out the IV line. Sam was cursing under his breath and Steve hurried over to crouch next to him.

“What…”

“I don’t know,” Sam interrupted. “Everything was quiet, and then…like a switch flipped. Dumbass, not like you’ve got a lot of blood to lose…” That last, Steve took it, was directed at Loki. “What do I know, though…your neighbors are going to be pissed.”

“I’ll – think of something to explain it to them.” Steve’s heart was still pounding with the adrenaline rush. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Get me a half glass of milk from the kitchen,” Sam said. “And the five years this bastard scared off my life, too, while you’re at it…” Steve nodded and stood up slowly. He started to move over toward the kitchen, vaguely listening to Sam’s mutterings, until he stopped dead at, “oh, shit, did he stop breathing?”

Steve turned around as Sam reached out to touch Loki’s neck to check his pulse.

The second his fingers touched skin Loki’s hand snapped out, his fingers locking around Sam’s neck. Steve jerked forward with a cry of alarm, but Sam didn’t yell or struggle or grab Loki’s wrist, and the way he said “Steve,” in warning halted him in his tracks, even if his voice was strained.

“Hey,” Sam said, his hands down at his side and his voice calm, level. “Loki. Can you let go of me?” His voice wasn’t cut off, which Steve supposed might be a good sign. “If you do, I’m just going to take a step back. No one else is going to touch you.”

Steve took his cue from Sam and held very still. He could hear Loki’s breathing again, ragged and a little uneven. He said nothing, and his eyes flicked around the room, not blank now but wild again, afraid, and, Steve had a feeling, twice as dangerous for it.

“You were dreaming,” Sam said, though the strain in his voice was getting more pronounced. “But now you’re awake. No one’s going to do anything except I’m going to give you some space. Okay?”

Steve braced himself to move. If Loki attacked…he might not be fast enough.

Loki’s hand dropped and Sam took a step back, rubbing his throat. “Thank you,” he said, giving Steve another quelling look when he tried to move forward. “See? Nothing’s happening. It’s just you and me and Cap. Do you have enough space or do you want more?”

Loki said nothing, still halfway upright. Steve could see his arms trembling to hold him there. He licked his lips and for a moment Steve thought he was going to say something, but the silence continued.

“Okay,” Sam said. “I’m going to sit down.” Loki tensed, eyes going back to Sam, who did, indeed, sit down. On the floor. “And so is Cap,” he added, after a moment, and Steve hesitated but Sam _did_ seem to know what he was doing, so he lowered himself slowly to the floor. “Need anything? A glass of milk, maybe?”

Still no answer, but Sam just nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Sounds good.”

It took almost ten minutes for Loki to start to relax. Steve was surprised he didn’t try to bolt for the door, but maybe he could just tell how that would end and didn’t want the humiliation. Eventually, Loki started to slump, his arms giving out first.

“You ripped out a line while you were dreaming,” Sam said, when the exhaustion started to slow. “It’s supposed to help you. Get some fluids back in your system. Can I put it back?”

That got a reaction. Loki’s eyes snapped to Sam, wary again, and he shook his head. The silence was starting to make Steve nervous, but he wasn’t about to interrupt. He expected Sam to try to bargain, but he just nodded.

“All right,” he said. “That’s fine. Maybe later. But if you don’t want the IV, would you take a glass of milk from Steve?” Loki’s eyes flicked back to him, wary and watchful. Wild animal eyes. “You’ll be pretty miserable in the morning without it.”

Steve expected another refusal, but to his surprise Loki nodded. Sam glanced toward him. “Microwave it for about twenty seconds,” he said, voice firm and certain. “Just a half a glass should be fine. Then come back here and give it to me.”

Steve went. He kept a careful distance from Loki as he handed off the glass, and then backed off again. Sam took a sip of the milk himself and then held it out to Loki, who took it in two hands and gulped the whole thing in a few swallows. He was careful, Steve noticed when he gave it back, not to touch Sam at all. Sam took the glass and sat back again. Steve could see Loki fading fast.

“If you want to sleep again, that’s cool,” Sam said. “I’ll be here. Keeping my distance, see? Unless you have any more dreams and then I’ll wake you up. Sound good?”

Loki folded back down and it was perhaps another ten minutes before his breathing slowed and resumed the normal rhythms of sleep. Sam slumped, as did Steve. “Well,” Sam said, after a few moments, and blew out a breath. “That went well.”

“Is that what it went?” Steve asked, a little incredulous.

“He didn’t kill me, anyway,” Sam said, and Steve wished he could laugh at that, but he didn’t think Sam was exactly joking. “Could’ve gone a lot worse.”

Steve wiped a hand over his face. “Yeah…I guess it could.” He hesitated, and then asked, “what you just did…”

“People come back with a lot of different kinds of issues,” Sam said. “It’s my job to try to help.”

“It’s pretty incredible,” Steve said, honestly.

“Yeah,” said Sam, and then let out a shaky laugh. “Jesus. I’m just glad it worked.”

“You didn’t know if-”

“Steve, guy’s an alien. I don’t know _anything._ ” Sam shook his head. “I’m just keeping my fingers crossed and hoping. Can you get _me_ a glass of something to drink now? Maybe a little stronger than milk.”

* * *

Loki slept through the rest of the night. Steve didn’t.

Doubts kept circling around in his head. He was putting everyone here in danger by having Loki here. He was putting _Sam_ in danger. He was out of his depth and had no idea what to do. There was no one he could turn to for help.

And he was supposed to be looking for _Bucky._ How was he going to do that now?

 _If only we hadn’t seen that door,_ Steve half thought, but was immediately ashamed of himself. And left Loki to die, slowly and horribly? Nobody deserved that kind of a fate. Not even Loki.

But what _was_ he supposed to do? Assuming Loki got better, what then? And even while he did recover…

For the first time, Steve thought he missed SHIELD. And Natasha and Fury and an entire network of people who might actually know how to handle this kind of thing. He wondered what Natasha would say, if he knew how to get in touch with her. What kind of advice she would give. They might not always agree with each other, but she had a good head on her shoulders.

“Not sleeping, huh?”

There was that, Steve thought, looking up from the floor at Sam, who was leaning against the doorframe to his bedroom. He did have Sam. He felt a surge of gratitude for that.

“No,” he said, “I’ll take up watch if you want to sleep for a few hours.”

“Nah. I’m good.” Sam stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “Want to talk?”

Steve groaned. “Yes. No. I don’t know.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m just rehashing the same thoughts over. What I’m going to do next, how I’m going to manage this…”

“We,” Sam said. Steve looked up at him. “What we’re going to do next, you mean.”

“I can’t ask you to-”

“Stop right there,” Sam interrupted. “And don’t even start down that road. You might’ve gotten me into this but I’m making the choice for myself to stay in it, and that’s that.”

Steve’s first instinct was to argue, but one look at Sam’s face told him that wouldn’t be any good at all, so he just smiled, ruefully. A little relieved, to tell the truth. “All right, all right. If you’re sure.” He hesitated, and then added, “but on the practical side…if we’re going to keep this quiet, and I think we need to – _how?_ ”

“You mean, how do we keep the news crews from finding out that Captain America is stashing an alien war criminal at his D.C. apartment?” Sam asked. Steve gave him a baleful look, and he shrugged. “You got me there. You can’t get in touch with that friend of yours, Natasha?”

“I’m not sure how I would. She didn’t really leave a business card.”

“Trouble with spies,” Sam said, sounding a little wistful. Steve sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. If only there was someone else he could hand this over to. But there wasn’t, and he knew it. This – _Loki –_ was his responsibility now.

Steve put his face in his hands and groaned again. “This really was a terrible idea, wasn’t it.”

Sam clapped him on the shoulder. “Little bit, yeah,” he said, with what Steve thought was inappropriate cheer. He hesitated, then, and sobered. “But I don’t know that there was a better option, all things considered. Not one that I would have felt okay about, anyway. We’ll muddle through.”

“Yeah.” Steve rubbed his eyes one more time and then raised his head, rolling his shoulders back. “I guess we’d better.” After all, if – when – Loki healed, it was going to be up to them to figure out how to keep him from making a reprise of what he’d tried before. 

_Nice going, Rogers. You’ve really stepped in it this time._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, thank you all so much for the immensely positive response to the first chapter! As I mentioned before, I already had this chapter written - after this point I'm going to be flying on New Content Only, which means spaces between updates may be (will be) more irregular. Rest assured that I'm working on it, though. 
> 
> Many thanks to my beta for all her work editing almost every goddamn word I've written over the last six years. And thanks also to my enabling friends. You know who you are. 
> 
> I'm on [my Tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com) talking about this and 5 million other AUs way too much, for those who may be into that sort of thing. Enjoy.

Something had changed.

He didn’t understand it. Everything was blurred and confusing and there was so much light and sound and things happening, and it was too much, too _much_ – which was what had changed, wasn’t it? There was no longer darkness on all sides, his only company the heartbeat that might have been his own. Some of the pain had eased and ebbed away a little. He remembered voices, blindness, skin against the palm of his hand and someone speaking to him – _to_ him, not over him. Kind words, and no pain, and it was a trick or a trap of some kind but damn him, it worked. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like, not to be stretched on stone or else on the chair.

It didn’t make sense but he couldn’t care. It was enough to have a reprieve. Even if it was taken away soon…it was something else to cling to that wasn’t darkness, loneliness, _pain._

He slept. Not quietly, or well, but it was sleep, and when he opened his eyes the light was still there. Too bright, so he had to close his eyes again, but he could feel it through his eyelids, and it was a little like bliss.

_It’s not real,_ murmured some faint warning thought. He nearly flinched. _You are dreaming. Outside your dreams, the dark still waits to swallow you._ He remembered falling, tumbling through darkness – or had he been falling at all? He remembered clawing at stone, trying to break free. _No, Loki._ Was that memory or dream?

It didn’t matter, he told himself, pushing the thoughts away. It could be a dream, but it was a good dream. Wasn’t that enough?

He kept his eyes closed, letting the light filter through them until he drifted.

* * *

Steve drifted off somewhere in the middle of the night without meaning to, and woke up to the smell of scrambled eggs. He followed it into the main room and found Loki still lying on the couch, apparently asleep or unconscious, and Sam in the kitchen making breakfast.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said apologetically. “I really didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

Sam flashed a grin over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. No further problems with our space alien friend. Want to come over here and tell me if these eggs are good?”

Steve threw one last glance at Loki stretched out on his furniture and then went over to the kitchen. Sam handed him a fork and leaned in as Steve took a bite. “I think he’s awake,” he said, quietly. “Or at least conscious.”

Steve’s head whipped around, but Loki hadn’t moved, and Sam wasn’t done. “But I’m thinking – if he wants to play dead, let him. My guess is that he’s buying time, trying to figure out what’s what, and figures a sleeping target is maybe less of one if there’s still danger.” He paused, and added a little grimly, “or else he’s just checked out entirely. That’s possible too.”

Steve scrutinized Loki, but he couldn’t tell anything from here, and nodded slowly. “Eggs are good,” he said, louder, for Loki’s benefit, and then lowered his voice and added, “if it’s the latter…?”

“I don’t know. That kind of catatonia is a little above my pay grade.” Sam turned off the burner on the stove and moved the eggs over to a cool one. “Where do you keep plates?”

Steve pointed, still looking at Loki. He looked so still. It was hard, somehow, to reconcile the emaciated wreck on his couch with the prowling, stalking menace from the attack on New York. He wondered what HYDRA had been trying to do with Loki.

Sam nudged him, and Steve took the plate that was being offered, giving Sam a quick smile. That was something to worry about later, probably; right now he had no way of knowing, or knowing what they might have managed to glean from their prisoner.

“So what do we do?” He asked Sam, keeping his voice low.

“Act natural,” Sam said, “and try to avoid sudden movements. Even if our new friend weren’t incredibly dangerous it’d be a mistake to do anything startling or that could be perceived as threatening. Right now, I think let him have his space. If he’s going to start responding, he’ll engage when he’s ready.”

Steve nodded, slowly, though the idea of letting Loki dictate the terms was a little unnerving. There was no way of knowing how fast he might regain his magic, or even how fast he would heal. It seemed like right now they were mostly riding on hope.

He wandered over to the fridge to get some orange juice, pouring two glasses and offering Sam one before taking his plate over to the table and sitting down to eat, facing toward the living area. The paper was already on the table and Steve scanned the headlines reflexively, but nothing stuck out at him. There was a feature on Tony in the Business section, it looked like. Steve made a face more to himself than anything. He continued on to the Arts section and started reading the reviews. Sam plopped down across from him, humming to himself. It was a bizarre kind of normalcy. From this angle, Steve could just barely see the black of Loki’s hair.

“Listen,” Sam said, leaning forward. “I have to go to work today. Are you going to be all right with…” He made a gesture toward the couch. “…on your own?”

“Of course,” Steve said, with more certainty than he really felt. “I’ll be fine.” He hoped. “Is there anything I should know?”

“If he starts responding…hm. Try to get more milk in him if you can. Tell him what you’re going to do before you do it. And if things get really bad…just back off and call me.”

“Right,” Steve said, nodding. “Don’t worry about me, Sam.”

The look Sam gave him made Steve suspect maybe his reassurance hadn’t been as reassuring as he’d meant. “All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll take your word for it, this once. But if something comes up and you don’t think you can handle it…call me. I can figure out some kind of excuse if I have to.”

“I’ll be fine,” Steve said, still trying for reassuring. At a hard look from Sam, he added quickly, “but I _will_ call you if I get out of my depth.”

“All right.” Sam stood up, rubbing his hands on his pants. “I’ll hold you to that, Rogers. I’d better get going, but you have my cell. Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, trying to smile. “You have a good day.”

“Regular nine to five is a breeze after hunting supervillains,” Sam said, stretching before heading for the door. Steve watched him head out, waving one last time, only to slump when the door closed. He glanced over toward the couch, but there was still no sign of movement.

“Okay,” Steve mumbled under his breath. “You can do this.” He’d just…act normal. _Not_ like Loki was lying on his couch, possibly catatonic. Easy.

Steve picked up his fork and resumed eating his eggs, resolutely ignoring the uneasy turn of his stomach.

* * *

It was easier than Steve would have expected to keep watch over Loki, actually – if about as stressful as he would’ve thought. He didn’t do much, at least not for the first few hours, lying there perfectly still and with his eyes closed as though sleeping – though Steve could tell from the rhythm of his breathing that he wasn’t, exactly. He wondered what thoughts were going through Loki’s head, then quickly decided that he probably didn’t want to know.

Steve stepped out briefly to go to the bathroom and when he came back, Loki was sitting up. The moment Steve stepped into the living room, though, he froze, eyes flicking to Steve.

“You’re awake,” Steve said, stopping where he was and holding up his hands, even though he felt his whole body tense. “I – that’s good.”

Loki said nothing, just looked at him. His eyes seemed to be struggling to focus, but he was clearly aware of Steve’s presence. He couldn’t tell if Loki recognized him or not, and wondered if it would be better to try to jog his memory or leave that alone for now. “You’re safe,” Steve said, figuring that was important to make clear, although Loki hadn’t moved to attack. “HYDRA-” Loki flinched, sudden and violent, and Steve cut off, biting the inside of his cheek. “You’re safe,” he said again. Loki just looked at him. He hadn’t blinked once that Steve had seen, his bearing more wounded animal than anything else.

Loki’s eyes slid from Steve toward the door, and Steve took a step forward, alarmed. Loki’s gaze flicked back to him, but he also flinched back, eyes going wide, almost wild. Steve made himself stop again.

“Look,” he said, trying to speak slowly, clearly, imbuing his voice with calm like he remembered Sam doing. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you.” Loki still said nothing, and Steve wondered for an awful moment if HYDRA had cut out his tongue, or severed his vocal cords, or something. “I mean it. You’re safe here.” He emphasized the word, _safe._

Steve couldn’t help but think that this wary, fearful creature was a far cry from the arrogant maniac of the battle in New York. The thought gave him an odd pang.

“What the hell did they do to you,” he murmured under his breath. Loki just watched him, eyes almost owlish, sunken as they were in his gaunt face. Steve kept his hands up and took another careful step forward. Loki didn’t scramble back this time, eyes just following Steve as he moved. He tried to lower his hands, halfway across the living room, but Loki reacted at once, his whole body tensing, so Steve brought his hands back up into view.

“Want something to drink?” Steve said, trying to sound conversational. “You’ve gotta be hungry.” He remembered the way Loki’s stomach had looked, almost concave, and wondered how long it had been since Loki’s last meal. Finally, Loki did blink, something flickering across his expression before it went blank again.

So he was listening, Steve thought, and understanding. Just…trying not to react. Steve wondered why, but the moment the question occurred to him too many awful possibilities came to mind. He went to the fridge and poured a glass of milk, then, after some consideration, another. Emerging from the kitchen, he held one out toward Loki. “Here. Might taste good.”

Still no obvious reaction, though Steve had the feeling Loki was assessing him. Considering. Considering _what,_ Steve wasn’t quite sure. Watching closely, Steve caught him licking his lips, a rapid, almost furtive movement. Steve moved cautiously closer and set the glass down on the coffee table, within reach. He took a sip from his own and turned pointedly away, trying to pretend like he wasn’t paying attention. He walked over toward the windows and when he turned around Loki was holding the glass, the level of milk maybe a little lower. Steve felt a small touch of mingled relief and a little bit of pride. He was tempted to ask if Loki remembered him, but that seemed like it might be dangerous territory.

Loki took another cautious sip of the milk, apparently focused on it though Steve thought he was still being watched as well. After a moment Loki set the glass down on the table, and Steve caught a small tremble in his hands. “Take it easy,” he said, keeping his voice mild. “Maybe you should lie down again.”

Apparently ignoring Steve, Loki began examining his wrapped hands. His eyes narrowed, mouth turning down at the corners, and then he began trying clumsily to pick at the bandages on his left hand with his still bandaged right.

“Wh – no, no, stop that,” Steve said, taking a step toward Loki. Loki’s head whipped back to him, fingers stilling, and Steve held up his hands again, trying to project calm and surety though he was anything but. “You need to leave those on,” he said. “To protect your hands while they heal.”

Loki just stared at him. His tongue flicked out, licking his lips once, and if his gaze was less feral than it had been, it wasn’t entirely lucid either – and was absolutely wary. Steve stayed where he was, trying to look nonthreatening. For a moment, Steve thought Loki would say something, but then his gaze dropped and he returned to picking at the bandages.

“Loki,” Steve said, a little more sharply, and Loki’s shoulders tensed so he clearly _heard_ but…Steve hesitated, not sure what the best thing to do here would be. He took a careful step toward Loki and watched him tense more, falling still. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Steve said slowly, “but you really need to stop picking at those.”

Loki’s fingers fell away, slowly, and he looked sidelong at Steve, gaze suspicious and wary. Steve tried not to wince, and held up his hands, palms out. “I’m not going to do anything,” he repeated again. “I’m just telling you. The bandages are there for a reason.”

Loki looked at him for another long moment, and then dropped his eyes and stretched back out on the couch, face turned away, the rest of the glass of milk abandoned. Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes, but at least he appeared to have won the battle over the bandages without causing any fresh damage. He hoped.

He settled down in a chair to sketch, keeping half an eye on Loki. Before too long his breathing slowed and evened out. Steve felt himself relax a little at a time. When he was sure Loki was asleep, he checked the time.

It was barely mid-afternoon, and he was already exhausted. Steve grimaced and rubbed his forehead. _You’re out of your league, Rogers. Should’ve…_

But he didn’t really have an alternative answer of what he _should’ve_ done. He could only hope that things would get easier as Loki recovered. Somehow he doubted that they would.

* * *

Sam called towards evening. “Hey, Rogers,” he said. “How’re things on the home front?”

Steve blew out a breath. “Everyone’s still alive, anyway,” he said.

“Oh, wow. That sounds great. Maybe I should just stay here, huh?”

“No,” Steve said quickly, and then tried for more calm. “No – it’s not that bad. He woke up for a little while, drank some milk. Kept trying to take the bandages on his hands off. Still not talking, and he went back to sleep. So…not that eventful. Just stressful.”

“Yeah, that I can see.” He heard Sam huff quietly. “Well. It sounds like you’re doing great, Steve.”

Steve choked on a laugh. “I don’t feel like I’m doing great. I feel like I’m barely managing to keep him calm. What’s going to happen when he recognizes me, Sam? Like – _really_ recognizes me. Last time we met wasn’t exactly friendly. And-”

“Hey,” Sam said, in what Steve recognized as his ‘calming voice.’ “It’s okay. We’re not there yet, and we’ll handle that when we get to it. For now – you’re still there, when anyone else would’ve high-tailed it out by now. You got him to drink something you gave him – that’s not as little as it sounds. And like you said, everyone’s still alive. Considering who he is, that’s a pretty big deal too.”

Steve nodded, after a moment. “I guess that’s so.”

“I’ll just be a few hours more,” Sam promised. “You hold down the fort until then, okay?”

“Will do,” Steve said, and hung up. He turned and almost jumped out of his skin. Loki was standing not two feet away, watching him. Steve hadn’t so much as heard him move, let alone stand and walk over. He wondered how much of the conversation Loki had heard – and how much he understood. It was hard to tell how much of Loki was…there. It was unnerving, remembering Loki as he’d been before and seeing him now, not knowing whether he was just choosing not to speak or had somehow…gotten lost, in the two years since Steve had seen him last. “Hey,” Steve said. “Um…sorry for talking about you like you weren’t here. I thought you were still asleep.”

Loki just stared at him. He looked…ghostly, Steve thought, pale milk white and thin as a rail, eyes sunk back in his head. He looked like someone’s nightmare.

“Should you be up? I think maybe you should still be resting,” Steve said. He heard himself, almost babbling. “Do you need something?”

“I know who you are.”

Steve gaped. Loki had – Loki had _spoken,_ which, good, so he still could, but his voice sounded like his throat was full of gravel in a way that made Steve wince. And _what_ he’d said-

“Oh?” He said, carefully. So he’d understood and he’d been listening to that part of their conversation.

“You are Captain America,” Loki said. He licked his lips and did not continue, and Steve cast around for a response that wasn’t _and what does that mean to you?_ But then his expression flickered and he shook his head. “No, that’s not right…”

“It is,” Steve said quickly. “I am…you’re right. But right now I’m mostly just…Steve Rogers. Does that make sense?”

Loki stared at him for a long time and then looked away, swaying like he was about to fall over. “You are not going to kill me?” He said, half a statement and half a question. Steve felt a little like he was going to choke.

“No,” he said immediately. “ _No._ I’m not-”

Loki nodded. “I see,” he said, and turned away, half stumbling back to the couch and almost falling back onto it. Steve realized too late that he should have offered help and instead he’d stood there stuck to the ground like an idiot.

“Do you…need anything?” Steve tried again, but either Loki had fallen asleep or just decided he’d said enough, because he didn’t answer. Steve looked at him for several moments and then moved into the kitchen to start making dinner. That was a good sign, right? It was a good sign. Had to be.

Still, Steve’s stomach didn’t stop churning for almost ten minutes. The faster Loki healed, he reminded himself, the faster this could be over with and he could go back to looking for Bucky. Although Steve didn’t know what _over with_ meant. As far as he knew, there was no one to turn Loki over to, and it wasn’t like Steve could just let him loose.

In the middle of this train of thought, Steve heard a small sound and whirled around, but Loki didn’t look to have moved. The sound came again and Steve realized that it sounded, maybe, like someone crying who was trying not to be heard.

“Loki?” Steve called, but Loki didn’t so much as twitch in response. Maybe he really was asleep. Crying in his sleep.

Steve felt sick. He debated with himself about going over to wake Loki up, but he seemed to have subsided. Or maybe just succeeded in muffling it completely.

_It doesn’t change anything about what he did,_ Steve thought, trying to clamp down on the well of pity – of _sympathy. The number of people he killed, the damage done…_

Loki didn’t look like much of a conqueror now, though. A detached part of Steve wondered how long it’d taken Hydra to break him. Or SHIELD, maybe – how much of a difference was there? _Not long, probably,_ an unpleasant voice whispered. _Even then, during the invasion, he was brittle. Barely in control._

Steve turned his back squarely on Loki and went back to chopping vegetables. It seemed safer than thinking about the man on his couch pulling himself together.

* * *

Steve went to meet Sam in the hall, when he returned. “He got up and talked to me,” Steve said, right off, and Sam did a double-take.

“Wait, actually?” He asked. Steve nodded. “That’s good,” Sam said. “Incredible, but good. So we know he’s not totally…” He trailed off, somewhat tactfully. Steve nodded at that, too. Sam examined him, and then added, “though of course it adds a whole ‘nother set of problems, doesn’t it.”

“Probably, yeah,” Steve said, glancing toward the door and wondering if Loki was listening. Sam looked with him.

“What did he say?”

“That he knew who I was,” Steve said. “And he asked if…I was going to kill him. I said no and he just kind of…went back to sleep.” Sam didn’t look as alarmed as Steve thought this news warranted, just nodded.

“That sounds about right,” he said. Steve frowned at him and Sam raised his eyebrows. “Think about it, Steve. Even with his freaky fast healing, that has to take a lot of energy. He had enough to make sure he wasn’t going to die right then and otherwise…I doubt he’d have stayed standing much longer.” Sam paused. “Anything else I should know?”

Steve nodded. That made sense, he supposed. He thought of Loki, apparently crying in his sleep, and wondered if he ought to mention that to Sam. He decided against it, at least for now. “I don’t think so.”

“Once more into the breach, then?” Sam asked, and Steve squared his shoulders and nodded, letting them back inside. It didn’t _look_ like Loki had moved, or woken, but Steve wasn’t sure that meant anything. Loki might be a broken down shell of what he had been, but Steve still couldn’t read what was going on in his head. Steve looked at Sam, and Sam made a sort of “hm” noise and then went over to the couch. Steve tried not to tense as Sam crouched down what looked like altogether too close. “Loki?” He said, voice quiet but not a whisper. Steve couldn’t see a reaction, but maybe Sam did because he continued: “how’re you doing? All right, more or less?” He paused, as though waiting for a verbal answer, and then went on. “Okay. You need anything, go ahead and holler. Steve or I can get it for you.”

Steve shifted as Sam paused again, as though waiting for a response, and then stood. He nodded toward the hallway and Steve took his meaning and followed him into Steve’s bedroom. “I’m maybe seventy-five percent sure he’s awake and faking it,” Sam said lowly. Steve glanced sharply over his shoulder, and Sam added quickly, “don’t get me wrong, he’s a long way from all better. And there’s a lot of reasons from his point of view to play possum that aren’t just waiting to stab one or both of us in our sleep.”

“I know,” Steve said. “Just…” He felt a pang of guilt. Easier to have Loki in his house when he was beat all to hell and half dead, apparently. Which maybe wasn’t exactly unfair, but with Loki in the condition he was, Steve still didn’t feel great about the thought.

“That’s fair,” Sam said, though, apparently without judgment. “I’m just saying. A big part of that is probably playing it safe until he figures out our angle. So…keep that in mind. Chances of stabbing decrease quite a bit if he doesn’t think we’re going to put him right back where he was.” Steve stiffened, and Sam gave him a look. “Don’t get offended at me, Steve. I know you wouldn’t, and you know you wouldn’t. But this guy only knows you because you were on opposite sides, and your side – as far as he knows – put him in that hole. So…”

Steve felt his gut twist, a brief pulse of nausea as he remembered the fetid stink in that room, the chair with restraints, and a fridge full of blood. “I didn’t know,” he said, a little weakly, but he couldn’t help but think that he should have. Even over the protest in his head that Loki wasn’t his responsibility. He hadn’t even thought about it once. Let Loki disappear and assumed that Thor would’ve checked it out. Or maybe, he thought with a sour feeling in his gut, he’d just thought in some deep corner of himself that Loki would deserve what he got.

“Steve,” Sam said quietly. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what,” Steve said. Sam just looked at him, and Steve had to look away. “It seems like the kind of thing I should’ve realized. Doesn’t it?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe not. He wasn’t even in the files Natasha blasted out, right? Someone scrubbed him out of the record pretty thoroughly. Even if you _had_ thought to go looking…”

“But I didn’t,” Steve said. “I didn’t even try. I just let it go and assumed – knowing _SHIELD’s_ track record, knowing what they did with the Tesseract, for God’s sake…”

“Not everything’s your responsibility,” Sam said. “It’s just pride acting like it is.”

Steve winced, making a face in Sam’s direction. “Pride?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, meeting Steve’s eyes levelly. Steve grimaced and let out a sigh.

“All right, all right,” he said. “Point taken.” He blew out a breath. “And I understand what you’re saying. So just…let him take his time?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Basically.”

Steve looked back toward the living room. “Guessing there’s no point asking how long that’ll take.”

“Nope,” Sam said. “None at all.”

Steve sighed and rubbed his palms on his legs. “Right,” he said. “Well. I guess that’s that, then.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Unless you’ve got any new ideas. Or a direct line to Asgard.”

“Unfortunately not.” Steve took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, stepping back out into the hall and heading back toward the living room, careful to make enough noise to announce his approach. Loki was still where they’d left him, though, huddled under the blanket on the couch. Enough of his face was visible that Steve thought he was actually sleeping this time, though, mouth slightly open and a faint whistling sound to his breathing. Well, Steve thought, that was probably good. The blanket had slipped down a little and Steve went over without thinking to pull it back up. When he straightened, Sam had one eyebrow raised.

“What?” He asked, a little defensively.

“Nothing, nothing,” Sam said. “Just should’ve gotten a picture. Captain America tucking in the alien supervillain.”

“ _You_ said it was important for him to stay warm,” Steve said, but Sam just chuckled, shaking his head.

* * *

If Steve had expected Loki’s brief communication to be a sign of dramatic improvement, he would have been disappointed. Loki spent most of the next two days sleeping like the dead – a phrase that might have been more of a metaphor if Steve didn’t feel the periodic need to check and make sure he was still breathing. It seemed to be helping some, though: at least, a few of the less prominent bruises faded, and he lost some of the persistent grey tinge to his skin. Steve took to leaving a glass of milk on the coffee table and tried not to watch too closely, since – like they were playing some weird version of statues – Loki only seemed to move when Steve wasn’t looking. Though he could feel eyes on his back, sometimes, the feeling that he was being watched, and sometimes when he turned around Loki’s eyes _were_ open, watching him.

At least, Steve thought a little wryly, it wasn’t just him. Sam had the same experience and no more verbal response.

By the second day, Steve was almost used to it. Except for the way Loki periodically woke up howling like someone was twisting his arm off, though he always stopped before Steve could figure out the best thing to do, hunched in on himself and shaking.

And he didn’t talk again.

Steve had taken Sam’s advice and hidden the knives, but one day when Loki was in the bathroom (which he seemed to have figured out easily enough, to Steve’s relief) he went to lay out fresh towels on the couch and found a steak knife hidden between the cushions. After some consideration, he left it there. Should’ve figured he wouldn’t be able to come up with a hiding place that Loki couldn’t find.

He was starting to get antsy about the delay in searching for Bucky, but he didn’t actually have any fresh leads. Things could be a lot worse, though, Steve was very aware. Just by thinking that, he probably should’ve known he was asking for trouble.

The knock on the door came after an especially rough night, and Steve winced, trying to come up with some kind of cover story. And an apology. If things were going to go on like this…

It was Sharon Carter. _Agent_ Sharon Carter, formerly of SHIELD.

Steve put his arm out across the door without thinking about it, trying to think what he’d say if she asked to come in. “You’re still living here?” Was unfortunately what came out.

Her eyebrows rose just a fraction. “Yep,” she said. “The lease was for a year. Not a bad building, either.”

“Yeah,” Steve said awkwardly. “S’pose not.” He cleared his throat. “So, uh. What brings you over?”

“Just checking in on my neighbor,” she said casually. Steve thought she knew he wasn’t going to buy it, though. Then she shook her head, made a face, and asked, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” Steve said automatically, and then registered the question and frowned. “Why?” She gave him a look and Steve shook his head and clarified, “why _now?_ ”

Now it was Sharon’s turn to look awkward. “This is a decent building, Steve, but sound still travels.”

Oh, Steve realized. Oh, _damn._ She’d heard Loki and thought it was _him,_ and he should’ve figured something like this would happen but he’d been operating on some stupid hope that somehow it wouldn’t be an issue. Like that had _ever_ been true.

“Uh,” he said, scrambling for an explanation. “I’m – it’s fine. Honestly.” Oh, that sounded honest, and explained everything, absolutely. He didn’t want Sharon to think – oh, hell. What she already thought, obviously, and he could feel his face getting warm but on the other hand there wasn’t exactly a viable alternative. _That screaming you’ve heard is just Loki – yes, that Loki – having fits on my couch because Hydra had him in a concrete dungeon for two years doing god knows what._

“Steve,” Sharon said, and then stopped, making a face. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s none of my business.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Steve protested. “I really am-” He realized belatedly that he hadn’t shaved in almost twenty-four hours, had slept only in two or three hour intervals, and his clothes were hopelessly rumpled because he’d forgotten to do laundry this week. Based on the look Sharon was giving him, it showed. He closed his eyes for a second to hold back the urge to swear. “It’s been a long week,” he said.

Sharon was starting to look like she wished she hadn’t knocked. “Uh huh,” she said. “Well, I don’t make casseroles, but if you need someone shot…”

Steve laughed, a little anemically. “I’ll knock on your door first.”

“Glad to hear it.” She gave him a small, awkward little smile. Steve couldn’t help but think, a little panicked, about where Loki might be and what he was hearing. He hoped he was still sleeping. “If there is anything, though,” she said, smile fading fast, and Steve hoped his expression looked reassuring.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. “And…sorry. About the noise.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be. My upstairs neighbors like to have loud sex at odd hours. That’s worse.”

Steve closed the door with selfish relief and not a small amount of guilt. He rested his head briefly against the door before turning around.

The couch was empty.

Steve’s heart started pounding. “Loki?” He called, as quietly as he dared, moving toward the couch and checking behind it, then down the hall. The bathroom was empty. The bedroom likewise. He couldn’t have gotten far that fast – could he? Steve hadn’t seen him move much but if he’d been pretending to be weaker than he was – or what if he had his _magic_ back and had used it to get away-

His eye snagged on the door to the balcony left ajar and he almost ran over, yanking the door open, and there he was: standing barefoot in one of Steve’s shirts and sweatpants, looking up at the sky and leaning forward over the railing.

Steve’s heart jumped into his throat. He grabbed Loki’s arm, not thinking, to yank him back inside.

He should have known better. It was that too-quick-to-catch movement again, breaking Steve’s grip like it was nothing and flinging himself back against the railing. His eyes were wide, wild, and he scrabbled against the edge and then grabbed it, one foot lifting off the balcony and onto the railing like he was going to climb.

Steve jerked back, raising both his hands quickly. “Whoa, whoa, stop!” He said. If anyone looked up, or across, or –

Loki might not die if he fell. But Steve doubted he’d just get right up, either.

“Sorry,” he went on, almost stumbling over the words. “Sorry, I shouldn’t’ve – grabbed you. You just spooked me, that’s all, vanishing like that. I thought you might’ve gone somewhere, run off. Come on, it’s fine. No danger.”

Loki didn’t move any further, but he didn’t move to come back, either. Crouched like a wild animal, shoulders rising and falling visibly with his breathing.

“You…shouldn’t be out there, though,” Steve said. “Someone might see you. So if you could, um…come back inside?”

Loki looked at him like he didn’t understand a word Steve was saying. Steve took a deep breath and let it out.

“Loki,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. “Please come inside.” He had a brief moment of surreality, recognizing that he was trying to coax a notorious magic alien inside like a feral cat. “It’s not safe out there.”

That seemed to get through. Maybe the _not safe._ Either way, Loki flinched, then slowly removed his foot from the railing. Steve backed away from the door, hoping maybe giving him more space would help.

He exhaled loudly when Loki finally came back inside. The minute he could he closed the balcony door, locked it, and pulled the curtains. When he turned around, Loki was back on the couch, curled up with his eyes closed.

“Thanks,” Steve said. “I appreciate it. Just have to be careful about who sees you, because of the neighbors, and…” He trailed off. Loki didn’t so much as lift his head or twitch, eyes closed firmly. Even his breathing barely moved his chest.

Steve dropped his head and sighed. So much for progress, he thought wearily. His neighbors were getting suspicious and he’d probably just set back Loki’s recovery another two weeks.

He sat down in one of the living room chairs, wondering if he ought to call Sam. It occurred to him abruptly that Loki hadn’t looked scared when Steve had gone out – so he hadn’t just panicked when the door opened. No, he’d been basking. Feeling the sun on his face for what was probably the first time he could remember in two years.

And if that didn’t make Steve feel twice as rotten.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but Loki didn’t react to it at all.

_This isn’t your job,_ a little voice at the back of his mind muttered resentfully, but he’d already been over that, hadn’t he? This wasn’t _anyone’s_ job because it shouldn’t have happened in the first place, and now Steve was the only one who could take care of it – or at least the only one who _was._ He might be itching to get back to looking for Bucky, but at the moment it wasn’t even like he had leads to follow.

For now…this was what he needed to do.

Steve looked over at Loki and thought he caught a sliver of an eye watching him, but even as he blinked it was gone. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter? Already? What is this madness!
> 
> Although as of now we reach the end of what I had written when I started posting this fic. (I had part of chapter three written, just had to finish it.) That may mean that the pace of update slows down. We'll see - I'm not keeping secrets, you'll know what I know as soon as I know it. 
> 
> I continue to be delighted by all of the positive comments from everyone reading this thing! You're all delightful. All of you. 
> 
> With thanks to [ameliarating](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) for her ever-patient beta-ing work, because reading and editing literal thousands of words is an actual job and she does it for free. You know the drill by now.

These things he knew:

He was no longer buried underground. It was still a prison, but it was a kinder one – there was a soft place to sleep and food available, though it was unclear what the rules were about it. He took to stealing small items from the cupboards when it was dark and tucking them away in places that his guards would not look. So far they had not seemed inclined to punish, but he was not going to assume that would last forever.

His guards: one of them, he knew, from a memory that was hazy and vague but slowly clarifying. _Captain America,_ though he had corrected _Steve Rogers._ He was not entirely certain what the distinction meant, but it seemed to have some importance, and so he would remember it. The first moment of recognition had brought a surge of adrenaline, of _fear._ But there was too little he could do about that now, other than try to appear harmless and keep his stolen weapon hidden.

(Somewhere, deep down, the whisper that he should be ashamed, but the whisper was yet faint.)

The other he did not know. He was less often present but he spoke softly and asked questions and did not seem to mind when he did not answer or pretended not to hear. Was he meant to trust one and not the other? 

He was inclined to think there was some test, and he simply had not worked out what it might be as yet.

And this: no one had tried to hurt him. They watched him, wary and suspicious, but even when the quiet one found his stolen knife he did not touch him. Pretended, on the contrary, that he had seen nothing.

That, more than anything, made him uneasy.

If he was not here to suffer – if he was not here to be _punished-_

What did they want from him?

* * *

“I screwed up,” Steve said miserably, meeting Sam in the hallway. Sam’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, and Steve added, “he didn’t - get out, or anything.” He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Sharon heard him and came to check on me. When she left - I thought for a second he _was_ gone but he was just out on the balcony. I panicked and went to pull him back in and he almost went over the railing.”

“Oh,” Sam said, the alarm fading, but he looked like he wanted to wince.

“He’s back inside now but he’s been basically catatonic since. Again.” Steve grimaced. “I don’t know, Sam. Maybe this is a bad idea.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a bad idea,” Sam said. “But we agreed there’s not a lot of alternatives.”

He was right. Steve knew he was right. Even if Loki seemed harmless now, Steve knew he wasn’t, and the way he was acting...that could change any time. “I’m afraid I’m just making things worse.”

“Recovery isn’t linear,” Sam said. He gestured at the door. “Let’s go inside. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is.”

Loki didn’t look to have moved, though when Sam walked over, his shoulders hunched slightly. So he wasn’t completely unaware of his surroundings. Sam stopped a couple paces away.

“Hey,” he said conversationally. “I hear Steve was a dumbass today.” Steve blinked, but swallowed his urge to protest, hanging back but ready to react if Loki made any sudden moves. “I’d say he’s making dinner to make up for it but he’s not very good at anything that isn’t stew, so he’s going to just make you a smoothie, and I’m going to order pizza. Do you have that in space?”

Nothing. Sam didn’t seem deterred, though, just went on: “We’ll leave it out so you can grab a slice after lights out, if you want. But you don’t have to wait. Your call.”

Loki moved and Steve jerked forward, but he just rolled over. His eyes were open and seemed clearer. “What do you want,” he asked. His voice was quiet, still rough but sounding less like he’d swallowed gravel.

“With you?” Loki didn’t nod or shake his head, but Sam shrugged. “Nothing much. We’d rather you didn’t try to hurt either of us, obviously, but that’s about it.”

“Liar,” Loki said. Steve frowned.

“What do you _think_ we want?” He burst out, even knowing he should keep his mouth shut. “We’re just trying to help.” But that wasn’t completely true, was it? He hoped Loki knew something. About Bucky. Loki’s eyes shuttered like he could see Steve’s thoughts on his face.

“No,” he said. “That isn’t it. You want something. Like _they_ did. You are simply using different methods to try to get it.” Oddly, he sounded almost satisfied. Steve opened his mouth and made himself close it.

“Yeah,” Sam said after a moment. “All right. We have some questions. But what Steve said isn’t a lie either. And even if you don’t have answers, that doesn’t change the fact that you were hurt and needed help.” He took a step back. “Like I said, we’re ordering food. If you feel up to it, you’re welcome to have some.”

Sam moved away, but Steve watched Loki. It might have been the most words he’d heard him string together since they’d rescued him, but there was still something scared and animal in the way he looked after Sam. And then his gaze cut to Steve, who didn’t look away quickly enough to hide his stare. Loki looked like he wanted to shrink back and just barely kept from doing so.

“Those people,” Steve said, after a moment. “The ones that...we’re not them.” Loki did not look convinced. “We’re not,” he insisted, feeling almost defensive. “What they did...if I’d known, I’d never…”

Loki’s exhale hissed out through his teeth. He looked at his hands, still skeletal, the nails just beginning to grow back. “You did not care,” he said, but his voice was suddenly dull. “As long as you did not have to see, it did not matter to you.”

Steve’s stomach clenched. “That’s not true.”

Loki said nothing, and Steve realized a moment later that the clarity had gone out of his eyes. He’d gone somewhere else. Steve had to wonder where. Some good memory, maybe.

Or maybe the opposite.

He sighed and trudged over to the kitchen, following Sam.

“This is good,” Sam said quietly. “Well, in terms of Loki recovering good. Who knows what happens then.” Steve stared at him.

“ _Good?_ ”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “For one, that’s the most he’s said since we pulled him out of that hole in the ground. And it was questions. _Real_ questions, not just _are you going to kill me_ questions. Trying to put things together. Yeah, there’s a lot of paranoia and suspicion there, but that’s not exactly surprising.”

“And that’s...good,” Steve said slowly.

“Well, yeah,” Sam said. “He’s getting better. Not going to be near catatonic forever. Probably.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Like I said, progress isn’t linear. But if he’s gotten this far the odds are better.”

Steve nodded, slowly. Of course, the closer Loki got to _well_ the more he’d have to think about next steps. And worry about what Loki was going to _do._ So far he hadn’t shown any inclination to use magic, but Steve had no idea if that was because he _couldn’t_ or just...hadn’t. And how long would that last, if it was the latter?

“Paranoia and suspicion seem pretty dangerous to me,” he said finally.

“But he hasn’t attacked us yet,” Sam said. “Hasn’t cut our throats in our sleep, which he probably could by now. Why?”

“Because…” Steve trailed off. He didn’t have a good answer. “I don’t know. He doesn’t think he could win?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. He moves quietly, Steve. If he really wanted to sneak up on us…no. I think it’s some sense of, I don’t know, honor. We saved his life. Maybe that means something.” Steve looked at him dubiously, and Sam spread his hands. “It’s not that impossible. He and Thor both come from some kind of…Viking warrior society, right? Seems like owing someone your life is something they might take seriously.”

“Maybe,” Steve said doubtfully. “But I don’t think I’m going to count on that.”

“Not saying you should,” Sam said. “Just thinking out loud, mostly. About how maybe if we play this carefully…” He glanced toward the living room, and Steve looked with him. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, instead of finishing whatever he’d started to say. “If nothing else – we’ll improvise. You seem to be good at that.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if things didn’t go sideways so often,” Steve said ruefully. But he went to pull some frozen fruit and yogurt out for the promised smoothie. He hoped Sam was right about Loki feeling like he owed them. Maybe it would make him more willing to tell them what he knew. And if he felt a little guilty about that train of thought…

He reminded himself that his real priority here was Bucky. He couldn’t let himself get detoured for too long, and risk losing his trail.

* * *

By the time Sam went out to pick up the promised pizza, Loki seemed to have emerged, somewhat, from his retreat from reality. Or at least watched Steve with wary, suspicious eyes when he held out the smoothie, not taking it. After a moment Steve set it down on the table.

“I’m not going to poison you,” he said, trying not to sound impatient.

Loki’s expression didn’t change, though his eyebrows twitched very slightly like he wanted to disagree. Steve kept himself from frowning.

“Why would I?” he pressed. “After spending all this effort dragging you back from the brink of death-“

Loki stiffened immediately but still said nothing, and Steve shook his head.

“Suit yourself,” he said finally, and turned his back.

“I did not ask for your rescue,” Loki said suddenly. His voice still sounded rough, slightly raspy. Steve turned and looked at him incredulously.

_You_ couldn’t _ask for rescue,_ he thought, _because you weren’t even talking, you were barely even alive._ He took a breath and held it before he could snap as much. “You didn’t need to,” he said instead. “Like Sam said, you were hurt and needed help. I don’t turn my back on people who need help.” _Even someone like you._

“Even someone like me?” Loki said, an eerie echo of Steve’s thoughts that almost made him jump.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Even you.” He gestured at the smoothie. “You should drink that. You need strength to keep healing.”

Loki still stared at him like he was trying to make up his mind about something. Steve shook his head and turned away again. “You don’t have to believe me,” he said, “but you should at least have seen by now that I’m not trying to kill you. We’re not.”

“They were not trying to kill me either,” Loki said. He almost managed to keep his voice level. It only shook a little at the end. Steve didn’t turn back immediately, but after a moment he walked over to the chair across from the couch and sat down.

“Those people,” he said, “the ones that had you…they’re my enemies. I fought them back in the 40s and I’m fighting them again now.” Some part of him wondered why he was bothering to explain this, but – it just didn’t sit right with him, Loki thinking that he was anything like HYDRA. He’d seen the condition Loki was in and it still made him sick to think about. And they’d just left him there, too, blocked up the door and walked away.

The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched minutely. “You gave me to them.” There was little tone in his voice, but his eyes were intent. Intense. “You and your friends. Your vengeance, I assumed.”

Steve’s stomach knotted. “No,” he said. “We – none of us knew. I figured you were imprisoned, but I didn’t think…I didn’t know HYDRA had dug into SHIELD.”

Loki exhaled, his eyes dropping half closed. “HYDRA. SHIELD. You say them like there is a difference.” He leaned back, though there was something about his posture that made Steve think he wanted to curl up. His stare shifted, looking somewhere far away.

“If you don’t believe there’s a difference between them,” Steve said after a long moment, “at least believe there’s a difference with _me._ Or at least Sam – he didn’t know anything about any of this. If you won’t trust me…”

“Trust?” Loki interrupted. “I do not trust anyone, Captain. But you needn’t worry about my planning something. I have nowhere else to go.”

Steve wondered if he ought to offer to listen if Loki wanted to talk about it, but he was fairly sure Loki would laugh at him for trying, at best, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to make the offer anyway. He was relieved when the knock came that signaled Sam’s return, and after he turned back, pizza in hands, Loki was once more curled up on the couch with his face hidden. And if his shoulders shook slightly, it was very, very slightly.

Steve didn’t tell Sam about the conversation. There didn’t seem to be much point.

* * *

Loki did not join them for dinner, though he did drink the smoothie, and Steve felt him watching – even if he never caught him at it. His frustration was at a low simmer, but he wasn’t certain he could’ve said with _what._ Loki and his low opinion of them both? The situation in general, being tethered to his apartment when he should’ve been out looking?

Sam went out to the living room while Steve was washing up. He kept his head cocked so he could try to listen; at first he could only hear Sam’s voice, but after a few sentences and pauses he heard the murmur of Loki’s response. Over the sound of the water he couldn’t make out any specific words.

Whatever Sam said, Loki drifted into the kitchen alone a few moments later, carrying his empty glass. He set it down on the counter silently.

“Thank you,” Steve said evenly, only looking at Loki out of the corner of his eye. He looked skinny, still, his borrowed clothes hanging on his body. Steve wondered idly how skinny he’d really been all along, under all the leather and armor back during the invasion. But he did look _better:_ a little less greyish, even if the sunken circles were just as deep. The half feral stare remained the same, just with slightly more comprehension in it.

His feet, Steve noticed, were bare. “You should put some socks on,” he said without thinking. Loki gave him a startled look and Steve almost winced. “You’ll lose heat fast,” he said, by way of explanation. “Sam said…” He trailed off, wondering if he’d made a mistake by drawing attention to Loki’s weakness.

Loki’s eyes narrowed a hair further. “I am not cold.”

_Not yet,_ Steve thought, but he bit back the urge to say it and looked down at the dish he was scrubbing instead, even though it was perfectly clean. “Suit yourself.”

Loki looked surprised by that, too, Steve noted with some satisfaction. Like he’d expected Steve to argue with him. He didn’t turn to leave, though, and finally Steve turned off the water and faced him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, too quickly, and turned on his heel. Too sharp, Steve saw at once, and moved without thinking to catch Loki as he stumbled, one hand on his shoulder and an arm across his chest. He realized his mistake almost as soon as he did it, but it was already too late.

Loki went rigid and then snapped his head back – Steve only just missed getting his nose broken. He let go quickly and Loki dropped to his knees. “ _Don’t touch me,_ ” he said, almost a wheeze, breathing coming quick and fast. “Don’t-”

Loki’s spine curved, one hand pressed to the floor. Steve stared, frozen for a moment.

“No one’s touching you,” he said, trying to sound calmer than he felt. “It’s okay-“ Loki’s breathing hitched and stuttered, spine curving more sharply like he was trying to hunch away from Steve’s voice. He swallowed hard and edged around carefully to where Loki could see him, crouching down. “It’s just me. Sorry about – sorry about that, I wasn’t thinking, you just looked like you were going to fall-”

He stopped. Loki’s wide, panicked eyes seemed to be looking right through him, and he wasn’t taking full breaths at all now, just little hitching hiccups that made Steve’s lungs clench up in sympathy.

“Loki,” he said, surprised by how level he made his voice sound this time. “You hear me? Breathe in. Just – as much as you can. Hold it.” He had to repeat it twice before Loki’s did it, but he exhaled when Steve told him to, too. “Focus on – the tile, the way the tile feels,” Steve heard himself saying, trying to go over the exercises _he_ remembered. “The pizza smell. Try another inhale. Hold it-”

He got Loki breathing more or less normally, eventually, though he remained shaking and pale, head ducked so his face was hidden. Steve glanced over his shoulder to see Sam in the doorway watching him.

A peculiar sound came from Loki and Steve just identified it in time, lunging for a salad bowl he’d _just_ washed and wincing as Loki retched into it.

He stood up slowly to go fill a glass of water. “You couldn’t help?” He said to Sam in a low voice, his own a little shaky.

“Figured it was better not to interfere,” Sam said. “Having someone else cornering him might’ve just made it worse. You were doing fine.”

Steve looked toward Loki, still hunched on the floor, though at least he’d stopped retching. Probably gotten rid of the little he’d eaten. “Fine?” He said, a little incredulous. “This is my fault. Again.” He kept his voice from raising, but only just. “I feel like a bull in a china shop. Maybe we _should…_ ”

“Should what? Find someone else? Maybe you aren’t the best at this,” Sam said, “but at least you’re a bull who’s trying to help instead of one invested in seeing him broken for good.”

Steve looked toward Loki, sighed, and shook his head. He brought the glass of water over and took the bowl away, setting the water down in its place. “Hey,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “You should drink the water. It’ll help.” Loki flinched slightly and Steve remembered his caution with drinking anything else he was given, his reaction when Steve had washed his face in the bath. He didn’t think he wanted to know what that was about.

He took a sip from the glass and set it back down, hoping that helped. Loki still looked like he was staring through the floor at nothing, his hands clenched so hard his knuckles were white.

He stood up again and turned to Sam. “So should we just…let him stay there?”

“Until he’s ready to move, yeah,” Sam said, his voice low. “Or do you want to try to make him go somewhere he doesn’t want to?”

Loki would’ve broken Steve’s nose if it weren’t for Steve’s quick reflexes. He might do something more drastic if he panicked again. Or just shut down entirely and set them back right where they’d been a week ago. “No,” he said. “You’re right. I know you’re right. You’re the one who knows…anything. I’m just…” He resisted the urge to gesture at Loki as evidence of what he’d managed to do.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Sam said. “All things considered, you’re managing pretty damn well.”

_By what metric,_ Steve thought, but he wasn’t going to be that ungrateful. “Thank you.” He glanced toward Loki, who was at least drinking the water. Steve could see his hands shaking.

The wave of pity caught Steve a little by surprise, though he supposed it shouldn’t have. Nobody deserved what had been done to Loki. He didn’t know what HYDRA had been trying to do, or what they’d been looking for, but he doubted it’d been limited to drawing blood.

“Should I get anything?” He asked Sam.

“Maybe a blanket,” Sam said. “Sometimes people get cold, after.” Steve was a little surprised that Loki wasn’t objecting to them talking over his head, but he supposed maybe Loki still wasn’t paying a lot of attention to his surroundings. He looked pretty out of it, even if Steve couldn’t see his face.

He went back into the living room and took the blanket off the couch, bringing it back to the kitchen and looking at Sam. Sam just raised his eyebrows, so Steve dropped down in front of Loki and very carefully draped the blanket over his shoulders without touching him.

Finally, his head lifted, enough that Steve could see his eyes that seemed caught between wariness and exhaustion. “I’m sorry,” Steve said again. “Are you…can I get you anything?”

Loki still said nothing. Steve could feel his skin crawling. He did move, though, slowly, drawing the blanket more securely around himself. His hand shook doing it, though now it looked like that had to do with him hitting the exhaustion part of this rollercoaster. Loki looked about ready to drop off on the floor, curled up with his back to the cabinets.

It occurred to Steve, miserably, that maybe he felt safer like that. Smaller target, and nobody could sneak up on you.

Steve glanced helplessly toward Sam again, looking for some help, and Sam shifted, straightening. “Hey, Loki,” he said. “If you’ll let Steve or me give you a hand up, the couch is probably more comfortable.”

Loki licked his lips. His eyes briefly met Steve’s and then darted away. “You,” he said, plainly to Sam. Quieter, rougher, he added, “please.”

Steve tried not to wince. It was fair, probably, but it was also…well, clearly he hadn’t made himself a comforting presence. Sam didn’t bat an eyelid. “Sure,” he said, moving past Steve to hold out a hand. Loki eyed it like he expected it to be hiding a weapon, but finally took it and pulled himself to his feet, though he didn’t look completely steady.

Steve just got out of the way and let Sam herd Loki over to the couch.

It occurred to him that if he couldn’t handle Loki like this…what was he going to do to help Bucky? God willing, he’d be better off, and at least Steve _knew_ him (though how much might he have changed, how much _been_ changed, by everything HYDRA had done to him) but…

_Worry about that when the time comes. You’ve got big enough problems right now._

Sam was talking to Loki quietly, but Steve didn’t try to overhear, and whatever he said Loki shook his head. Sam came back after a moment and gave Steve a faint smile.

“Don’t look so miserable,” he said. “We all got through it in one piece, yeah? First panic attack successfully navigated.” Steve just looked at him, and Sam huffed. “My line of work, Steve, you celebrate what you can even when it isn’t much.”

“At least he trusts you,” Steve said. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“That’s taking it a bit far. He doesn’t have pre-existing negative associations with me. You’ll figure it out.”

Steve wasn’t sure he deserved that confidence, but he didn’t argue.

* * *

He didn’t feel Loki watching him anymore. In fact, Loki seemed to be going out of his way to avoid Steve – at least as much as he could when he still couldn’t move around much without tiring himself out. He was back to the nocturnal eating schedule – or at least, Steve assumed he was, since he never actually _saw_ Loki eat but he didn’t seem to be losing more weight (if not gaining much, either). He always seemed to be “sleeping” when Steve was in the room.

Maybe it should be a good thing for Loki to be a little nervous of Steve, but it didn’t exactly feel like one. Just…unpleasant. He tried addressing Loki once or twice, but invariably his shoulders tensed and he didn’t answer, and Steve gave up fast. 

“I feel like we’ve gone back a week,” Steve said to Sam, talking quietly. Loki seemed to be actually sleeping, and in the last hour he hadn’t done more than twitch a few times. “Maybe more than that. He doesn’t talk, he won’t even look at me now-”

Sam gave him an odd look. “He talks to me.”

Steve blinked. That odd hurt rose up again, and he pushed it away. “What?”

“Few times, when you’ve been out and I was here,” Sam said. “Not much, and I’m pretty sure he’s trying to dig out my ulterior motive with every word, but it’s…coherent. So I’d say better than a week ago.”

Steve tried to laugh. “So it’s just me, I guess.”

Sam leaned back on his heels. “Again, Steve: I’m an unknown. You’re an enemy combatant. It’s hardly surprising he’d be a little scared of you.”

“ _Scared_ of me?” Steve supposed that shouldn’t surprise him, but he hadn’t thought of it in those exact words. ‘Wary,’ or ‘nervous’, but…’scared’ was different. “He’s said…”

“Not in so many words,” Sam said. “But that’s the general drive of the questions about you.”

Steve tensed. “He’s asking questions about me?”

“No state secrets, Steve, chill,” Sam said, sounding almost amused. “I wouldn’t tell Loki anything private, anyway. He asked a few different questions about you and SHIELD. He wanted to know if you follow their orders. I said no.” Steve frowned, and Sam said, “you have to remember, right now SHIELD and HYDRA are the same thing, as far as he’s concerned. Which…I guess that’s not so far off.”

Steve winced at that, but didn’t argue. “I see your point. So if I was taking orders from them…” He sighed. “I hate this. Maybe it shouldn’t bother me, but I hate knowing that he thinks I’m some kind of monster.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far.” Steve looked wearily at Sam, and he sat down on the bed. “He’s confused. Far as I can tell, on a fundamental level what we’re doing doesn’t make sense to him. He keeps looking for a reason, because apparently ‘what they were doing was wrong and we’re not the kind of people who leave people to die’ just doesn’t compute.”

There was something sort of hopelessly sad about that. Having so little faith in anyone – in the world. Steve wondered if Loki had expected rescue at some point and had just given up, or if he’d never expected anyone to come.

“So we’re lying,” he said. “Hiding something. Some other purpose.”

“He as good as accused me that we were playing some kind of fucked up game. That we’re letting him heal so we can ‘get a fresh start.’ I quote.” Sam laughed humorlessly.

Steve sat down. “How do you do it?” He said. “This kind of thing – it’s your day job, too, and you come back here and…”

“It’s not exactly the same,” Sam said. “And most of the people I talk to aren’t quite that bad. If he were anyone else I’d refer Loki to an actual trauma counselor, but obviously that’s not exactly in the cards.”

Steve sighed. “So how do I…we… _fix_ this?”

“Time, mostly,” Sam said. “And maybe we _should_ see about that trauma counselor.”

Steve honestly couldn’t tell if Sam was joking or not.

* * *

Steve meant to be patient and let Loki take his time coming around, he really did, but after a couple days it was starting to grate on him. Pushing too hard or too fast was a recipe for disaster, he knew, but tiptoeing around the problem didn’t seem like a great course of action either.

It seemed like a better idea would be to just face things head on and try to clear the air. And at least then Steve wouldn’t be walking around his own apartment on eggshells, scared that he was going to do something awful and ruin everything. If it were him, he reasoned, he’d want all the cards on the table, and if Loki knew they were looking for _something_ then he had to be trying to figure out what it was.

He waited until it seemed like Loki was fairly settled but not sleeping and sat down across from him. “Hey,” he said, keeping his voice calm and level. “Can we talk?”

Loki said nothing. Steve waited a few seconds anyway before going on. “I know you have questions,” he said. “So do I. I figured maybe we could trade. That’s all, just questions and answers.”

Still nothing. Steve blew out a breath, then realized – Loki’s eyes had opened, just a sliver, even if he wasn’t looking at Steve.

“So,” he said, and if his voice was still quiet it sounded a little less rough than it had. “You come around to it at last.”

Steve tried to catch his gaze to no avail. “I figured it’d be better than making you keep waiting and guessing. Uncertainty can chew you up like nothing else.” Loki didn’t reply, and Steve cleared his throat. “You can go first, if you want.”

“I asked my question,” Loki said. “I am still waiting for your answer.”

“About what we – I – want?” Steve said. Loki just looked at him, and Steve glanced away, trying not to grimace. “Right. I guess…” He realized, abruptly, that if he wanted to ask Loki what he knew about Bucky, he’d have to _explain_ about Bucky. He changed directions to take the easier route first. “The people who were holding your prisoner, HYDRA. Have you heard that name?”

“Yes.”

“Like I said,” Steve said after a moment’s pause, hoping for a little more, “they were my enemies during the war. They were-“ He checked himself before he mentioned Nazis – that’d require too much of an explanation, probably. “After the war, apparently they managed to infiltrate the government here, including SHIELD.” He glanced at Loki, whose face was still expressionless. “I know none of this can be easy to talk about, but-”

“But what do you care,” Loki said, and made a noise in the back of his throat. “Get on with it.”

Steve tensed. “I do,” he said defensively. “And I _wish_ you’d stop assuming that I – if I thought you _deserved it_ or something, I would’ve just turned around and closed the door.”

Loki’s lip curled. “I imagine you are regretting that you didn’t.”

Steve wanted to pull out his hair. He took a deep breath to control his temper and made himself relax. “What they did to you disgusts me,” he said flatly. “It’s despicable. I know the fact that I didn’t know isn’t an excuse, but whatever you think you know about me, I’m not that kind of person.” He realized his voice had risen slightly, and that Loki was pressed back into the couch like he was trying to lean away. Steve sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. “Maybe we should do this later.”

“Wait,” Loki said, just as Steve was about to stand up. Steve looked at him wearily, and Loki licked his lips and swallowed, a small anxious gesture of which he didn’t seem totally aware. “I…owe you a debt.” The words sounded dragged out of him, and his eyes skated away. “What do you want to know?”

Steve eyed him warily, suddenly doubtful. Maybe he should leave it alone. If he pushed Loki into a panic attack – again… “Are you sure?” He said carefully. “I can wait, if…that’d be better.”

“No,” Loki said stiffly. “Just ask.” His head moved oddly, a small twist briefly turning the corner of his cracked lips. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Steve managed not to wince. “Can you tell me how you ended up…there?” He wanted to ask _how long,_ but he also didn’t at all.

Loki’s eyes fixed on the wall past Steve. “Little,” he said after a moment. “Memories are…blurry.” He blinked twice, rapidly. “One cage is much like another. They all feel the same, eventually.”

_All_ , Steve thought, sounded like more than _two._ He wondered what other ‘cages’ Loki was thinking of. “Did anyone ever say anything about…the scepter?”

Loki’s gaze snapped to Steve, his eyes widening. “It’s still _here?_ ” Steve tensed in alarm, suddenly regretting mentioning it at all, before he realized that Loki didn’t look pleased by the news at all. Looked…frightened, maybe, though he wiped it away quick enough and looked away again. “As I said,” he said after a moment, “my memory is…unreliable. And they were not exactly having lengthy discussions with me.” Something touched Loki’s voice, very briefly, but it was ironed out again a moment later. “I might remember…something. Someone, a – doctor, perhaps. Asking-”

Loki cut off. A very slight shudder went through him, and Steve saw his gaze flicker, like he was briefly looking at something else. He leaned forward.

“Loki,” he said. “We can-”

“He asked how it worked,” Loki said. His voice sounded strange, detached and toneless. One of Loki’s shoulders moved in a small, repetitive motion that he didn’t seem to be aware of. “Wanted to know if it required magic. Was very interested in the source of the. Its power.”

“Loki,” Steve tried again, a little more loudly, wondering if he should just call Sam now before things got any worse. “You’re not…you’re fine. You’re not there anymore.”

Loki blinked twice and seemed to focus with a little shake of his head. “List,” he said. “That was – at least the only name I heard.”

_List._ It was something. Not a name Steve had heard before, anyway. And it suggested that HYDRA knew of the scepter at the very least; he had to assume it was in their possession. _Something else to worry about._ “Thank you,” he said. “That’s helpful.” The brief look of relief on Loki’s face made Steve wonder bitterly what he’d expected.

The other question he wanted to ask – _what did they want from you?_ – was definitely out of the question now, if it hadn’t been already. And Bucky…

Steve realized that he didn’t want to ask. Not when the answer might be that Loki didn’t know anything. “We can stop,” he said, after a moment. _Coward._ “I know this is…has to be…”

“Ask your question,” Loki said, his voice rough. “I am not going to – _fall to pieces._ ”

_You sure?_ Steve thought, but he wasn’t about to say it. He breathed out slowly. “Did you…ever hear anyone mention the Winter Soldier?” The flicker of incomprehension across Loki’s face made Steve’s heart sink, but he pressed on. “Or maybe Bucky – James – Barnes?”

The way Loki’s eyes flicked toward Steve before away again made him wonder suddenly what Clint might have told Loki about Steve’s history, but if the name meant anything to him he didn’t comment. “I don’t recall…hearing either name,” he said slowly. Steve clamped a lid on the despair that rose up and made himself nod.

“Thanks,” he said, as earnestly as he could when some part of him wanted to shake Loki and say _you must remember something, please, some small detail that’ll tell me where to look._ “That’s…those are the main things I wanted to know.”

“The main things,” Loki said, “but not all?”

“Unless you know where the scepter is, or what HYDRA wanted with it,” Steve said wearily. “The rest is less important.”

Loki tensed again, wound so tight he looked about to start shaking. “Whatever it is-”

“I think it should wait,” Steve interrupted. “Until…” He hunted for a tactful way to say it. Loki caught on before he found one.

“Ah,” he said. His eyes dropped, shoulders hunching and hands curling into fists. Steve was almost embarrassed on his behalf. He opened his mouth to say…something, something about it being normal, it’d get better, but everything he thought of just sounded like…stupid platitudes. Loki looked pale – more pale – and a little sick, and Steve felt a dollop of guilt on top of the heavy disappointment.

“Well,” he said. “I’m gonna…” He didn’t have an excuse ready. “Can I get you anything? Soup?” Loki didn’t answer, and Steve stood up slowly with a sigh. It could’ve gone worse. Was actually probably one of the better conversations.

“I am…sorry,” Loki said abruptly, not looking at Steve. “That I could not be more…helpful.”

Steve turned toward him, surprised. “You’re…” Of everything he might’ve expected to hear out of Loki’s mouth, that wouldn’t have been on the list. Even if it was only an apology for not knowing more. “It’s fine,” he said. “I, um. Appreciate your answering.” Loki did glance at him then, very quick, and Steve shifted, a little uncertain. “You know I’m not going to kick you out because you don’t know everything I want to hear, right?”

The hesitation was answer enough.

“Well, I’m not,” Steve said, maybe a little louder than necessary. “If you remember anything else I want to know, but I’m not turning you loose on the street. Or over to anyone else,” he added, before Loki could say anything. “So – so you can stop worrying about that.”

Loki didn’t deny that he had been. Steve went over to the kitchen and filled two glasses of water so he didn’t have to look at Loki’s expression, and when he came back to offer one he couldn’t read his face. He looked like he was thinking again, watching Steve a little like he was a mouse running a maze.

“What?” He asked, trying to keep his voice mild, but Loki still twitched and jerked his eyes away in silence, the conversation apparently over.

He picked up the glass of water without urging, though, and didn’t wait for Steve to drink from his first.

* * *

Between Sam’s full time job and the need for someone to keep an eye on Loki at all times, not to mention an alien with hyper-metabolism who was recovering from starvation, they were running low on food.

And there was another problem, too.

“Go,” Sam said. “We need groceries, and you need to get out of the house. You’re going stir crazy.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Natasha’s right,” he said. “You’re a terrible liar.” Steve flushed, and Sam spread his hands. “I only speak the truth.”

“All right,” Steve said, “maybe a little. But I don’t like leaving you alone with-” He glanced toward the living room.

“I can handle it,” Sam said. “Give me a little credit, Steve. If anything, he seems more relaxed with me than you, so probably less likely to stab. And whatever you said to him seems to have eased up some of the tension. Not a lot, but some.”

Steve felt a small, unexpected burst of pleasure. “Well, that’s something.”

“So go,” Sam said. “I can hold down the fort just fine for an hour or two. Take your time. Take a walk in a park. Relax a little.” Steve grimaced, and Sam added, “or try.”

“All right,” Steve said slowly. “All right, fine. But you’ll call me the _second_ something goes wrong, or looks like going wrong.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” Sam said. Steve grimaced at him, and Sam laughed, though he sobered a little fairly quickly.

“You might say where you’re going,” he said. “Just...for the sake of clarity. _Less tense_ isn’t _not paranoid,_ and you don’t want him to think you’re going off to blab to SHIELD.”

Steve nodded slowly, and turned to go back to the living room. Loki was curled up holding a mug of something steaming - had he _made himself_ something? - but his eyes fixed immediately on Steve, unblinking.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m going to the grocery store. Anything you want?”

Loki said nothing for a long moment. Steve was about to nod and turn away when he said, “pears. Please.”

Steve blinked, surprised. It was the first time Loki had expressed a desire for something in particular, or made a request other than demanding to know what they wanted. He glanced quickly at Sam before saying, “yeah, sure. Pears. Anything else?”

Loki’s shoulders slipped down a notch, and Steve realized that he’d passed some kind of test. “No,” he said. “Thank you.” Stiff, but it still made Steve blink.

“You’re welcome,” he said, only a little belatedly. He looked at Sam again.

“You’ve already got my list,” he said. “Go on. Promise we won’t burn the apartment down.”

Steve thought he caught a faint twitch of Loki’s lips out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked at him directly it was gone.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, more to Sam than Loki. “Text me if you think of anything else you want.” _Or if anything happens._

Still, even stepping out into the hall gave Steve a rush of relief, and when he actually got outside he felt accumulated tension melt from his shoulders. Not all of it, but not an inconsiderable amount, either. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, deciding to walk to the grocery rather than taking his bike. There was a bit of bite in the air but not so much that it set off the chills, just enough that it felt refreshing. He realized that he had begun to feel stifled in the apartment, over the last few days.

Hardly surprising, he thought ruefully. The situation was far from ideal.

Still, Loki _was_ improving. That might be a mixed blessing, but Sam was right: he hadn’t tried to hurt either of them yet, and at this point he probably could have if he tried. He might just be biding his time, of course - waiting until he was certain he could overpower both Sam and Steve and slip away, but Steve had an odd feeling that wasn’t it.

What was he going to do if a new lead on Bucky came up, though? Leave Loki alone, completely unsupervised? He’d need Sam’s backup. Steve tried to picture bringing Loki along and wanted to laugh, bitterly.

Steve tried to push that worry out of his head. No point in trying to deal with it now - things might change, by then. (And maybe he would never find another lead. Maybe Bucky was just-)

_No._ He wasn’t going to give up. Maybe Loki _would_ remember more. And there was the name of the doctor - if Steve could track him down, he might know something too.

Steve wished he were wearing clothes he could jog in. He could’ve used a run right now.

He took a slow, roundabout route to the grocery store, though he checked his phone every couple minutes, just in case. No message came through (he ignored the niggling voice that maybe Sam wasn’t _able_ to send a message) and the grocery store wasn’t too crowded. He started with pears, and quickly realized that there was more of a variety than he’d expected: he ended up picking up one of a few different kinds and hoping one of them would suit.

He was examining cans of chili when his phone rang. Steve picked it up at once.

“Sam?” He said, heart starting to pound.

“Steve,” Sam said, his voice tight. “I think you’d better get back here. Now.”

“What is-”

“ _Now,_ ” Sam almost hissed. “I know you can run like the devil. So _run._ ”

Steve abandoned his cart, pears and all, and ran.

He didn’t slow, darting through traffic and people with shouted apologies. He’d _left Sam alone._ Left Sam alone _with Loki,_ what had he been thinking, how much would be left when he reached him-

_Run faster, you god damned idiot._

He sprinted up the stairs, almost knocking over Ms. Rackner, and burst into his apartment with his heart in his throat.

Sam was standing between the living room and the kitchen with his feet planted. Loki was crouched like an animal at bay, his back to Steve and the steak knife in one hand, and on Sam’s other side-

Steve almost physically reeled back. He looked bedraggled and dirty, and the expression on his face was almost as feral as Loki’s, but Steve still felt an overwhelming rush of relief that left him dizzy. “Bucky?” He said, a little breathless.

Bucky’s eyes twitched sideways, maybe just a fraction, his jaw tightening. Loki moved like he was going to lunge and Sam moved with him at the same time Steve did. “No,” he said, “Loki,” but Loki’s lips curled back from his teeth.

“You _know_ this man?” His voice was thick and shook slightly. Steve took a step further in until Sam caught his eye and shook his head. Steve kept looking toward Bucky even as he tried to keep his eyes on the whole situation, drinking his face in.

“This is the guy I was asking about,” Steve said, trying to keep his tone level. “Bucky.” Did he remember now? That he’d come here - that he’d reacted to his name even a little… He tried, desperately, to smother hope. “Are you saying _you_ -”

“He was _there_ ,” Loki snarled. “Not named. But I saw him. Standing. _Watching._ ” Loki’s eyes got wilder. Steve jerked. This was - bad. And needed to de-escalate, fast, or it was going to get worse.

“It’s not what you think,” Steve said.

Loki spun. “Isn’t it?” He said, taking a step toward Steve, knife still held like he meant to use it. Sam moved to get in his way, but Bucky was faster.

He lunged for Loki, grabbing him by the back of the neck with his metal hand and yanking him back. Loki should have been able to jerk free, but he just went rigid, knife dropping from his fingers, and Steve realized too late that Bucky was armed too as he brought a knife up to Loki’s throat.

“No!” Steve shouted, louder than he expected. “Buck-”

Incredibly, he stopped. If Loki was so still he barely seemed to breathe, Bucky was shaking.

“He was gonna kill you,” he said. His voice sounded rough. Familiar but...not.

“He wasn’t,” Steve said, and was a little surprised that he actually believed it. “It’s...it’s not what _you_ think, either. Let him go.”

Loki’s face was ash. The knife fell away slowly, Bucky’s face flickering with uncertainty. The hand on Loki’s neck took a moment longer to release, and he nearly bolted away, staggering back a few steps. He looked at Bucky like he was looking at one of his worst nightmares. When Bucky looked at him, his mouth tightened.

“Bucky,” Steve said, and took a step toward him. Bucky took a step back. “Do you...you know me.”

“You’re Steve Rogers,” he said, after a second. He blinked slowly, and added, voice a little stranger, “your mom’s name was Sarah.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. It was good. It was. _He knows you._

“I think,” Sam said, voice a little strained but still dry, “maybe we should all sit down.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four: in which everyone is very upset and Steve might be (is definitely) in over his head. 
> 
> I've been _thrilled_ with the response to this fic. Thank you all so, _so_ much. I couldn't ask for a better bunch of readers.
> 
> I don't have a whole lot to say here. Thank you as always to the tireless [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), and also for [portraitoftheoddity](http://portraitoftheoddity.tumblr.com), who is always helpful when I come to her whining about how I got stuck in a plot hole.

Loki had almost begun to believe what they claimed. What the Captain Steve Rogers and the one who called himself Sam Wilson claimed: that they were not the same as his captors, that they hadn’t known, that they truly were - even if for their own inscrutable reasons - _helping._

He should have known better. That was not the way it worked.

The man standing in the room now was proof enough of that.

Loki recognized him. _Oh,_ yes. He might have only seen him once, but he had always had a sharp memory, and amid the merciful blur that was much of his past years there were moments that stood out, and he forgot the faces of none of his captors. He never would. They were ingrained in his nightmares, burned into the back of his eyes along with a promise of vengeance.

( _Ha. Vengeance. As though you could avenge anything, pathetic as you are._ )

Sam Wilson was saying something, but Loki could not make it out past the roaring in his ears. He managed to keep his hand from shaking, but the knife in his hand felt like small defense. He remembered this man, with his dark hair and flat eyes and silver hand, standing perfectly still with his eyes locked on Loki as he panted, heart pounding fit to burst out of his chest. He had still had enough shame left then not to beg.

His vision blurred. _Rip out his throat,_ one part of his mind screamed, and another _run, hide, before they drag you back._ Sam Wilson was in his way telling him _no._

Stupid. To believe in _trip to the grocery_ and _pears._ The Captain’s words were just that. Words. He had gleaned the information he wanted and now he was selling Loki back.

He wouldn’t go back.

But - Sam Wilson seemed frightened, agitated. Like he hadn’t expected this. If they _had_ told the truth, that this Hydra was their enemy, then maybe-

He was frozen. Locked between past and present, fear a hand gripping his throat. _Try again,_ someone said. _Triple the dose this time._

He would not go back.

* * *

Steve wasn’t sure how Sam got everyone to step back and, if not sit down, at least draw back a little further from erupting into violence. He was pretty sure it was some kind of miracle.

Loki placed himself as far from Bucky as possible, still wild-eyed and looking like he was just barely holding together. Bucky stood where he could see the door and the windows as well as Sam, Steve, and Loki, his expression stony. Steve longed to go over to him but planted himself in the middle, equidistant from both Loki and Bucky so if one of them moved he could respond quickly. Hopefully quickly enough.

“Loki,” he said. Loki’s eyes didn’t budge from Bucky, looking like he was about to start vibrating. “Loki,” Steve tried again, “Bucky’s not…part of HYDRA.” Bucky twitched at that name, and Steve wanted to apologize. He held back, for now. After this, when things had calmed down and he could actually _talk_ to Bucky… “He’s a friend.”

Loki looked like he wasn’t sure whether he was going to try to go through the wall behind him or lunge at Bucky. “A _friend,_ ” he said, almost spat. “Then _why was he there?_ ”

Saying _HYDRA was controlling him_ probably wouldn’t be a good idea right now. “He was a prisoner of theirs,” Steve said instead. “Same as you.” Steve was relieved that Loki didn’t notice the little twitch of Sam’s eyebrow. “And Bucky, Loki isn’t a threat.” God, he hoped Loki didn’t take that as an invitation to prove him wrong.

Bucky’s expression twitched minutely. “Not a threat,” he said, almost completely toneless.

“No,” Steve said, trying to sound firm. “He isn’t.”

Bucky’s eyes pulled slowly away from Loki to look at him. “I read the news.” He said. “He was in it.”

Did that mean he didn’t remember everything from being the Winter Soldier, if he only knew Loki from the news? Steve wasn’t sure if that would be a good or a bad thing. He remembered his name, and he remembered Steve. And he sounded…lucid. That was all good. “That was two years ago,” he said. “He’s been…” Steve glanced nervously at Loki, not sure how much to say.

“I’ve been in the _tender care_ of your _masters_ since,” Loki said, and both he and his voice were shaking now. Bucky’s hackles went up.

“ _I don’t have a master,_ ” he snarled, and Sam moved between them before Steve could.

“Hey,” he said firmly. “Nobody try to kill anybody. That’s a pretty hard rule in this apartment. Got it?” Both Loki and Bucky were quiet, looking like they trying to stare holes in each other. “ _Got it?_ ”

Loki muttered something sullenly that might have been agreement. After a moment, Bucky did the same. “Good,” Sam said firmly. “That’s a start.”

Steve looked at Bucky, his chest aching a little. “Where have you been?” He asked. “I’ve been looking for you-”

“I know,” Bucky said, not looking at him. A lump appeared in Steve’s throat.

“What?”

Bucky shrugged but offered no explanation. Steve swallowed hard. _Of course it’d be hard for him to approach you. He was probably confused, and scared, and had to figure out it was safe first…_ knowing didn’t make him feel much better.

“You’ve been watching the apartment,” Sam said, his arms crossed. Bucky glanced at him and didn’t answer that either. “What made you decide to come in now?”

Bucky shrugged again. Sam huffed out a breath and Steve spoke up.

“It doesn’t matter why,” he said quickly. “You’re here now. I’m – Buck, I’m so glad you’re okay. That you’re here.”

Bucky sort of twitched. “Seems like you’ve already got a full house.” His eyes fixed on Loki, whose lips spasmed like he was going to snarl even as he hunched back into the couch.

“No,” Steve said immediately. “No, stay here. We want you to stay here.” Both Loki and Sam gave him a dubious look that suggested that _we_ might be a little pre-emptive, but Steve pretended not to see. Loki didn’t say anything, but something flickered across his face that made Steve add, “we’ll make room.”

“You’re going to need a bigger apartment,” Sam said dryly.

“Maybe,” Steve said. “If that’s what it takes.” He kept his eyes on Bucky, overwhelming relief and sick anxiety churning in his stomach. He was here, he was alive.

And…Steve glanced at Loki, who still looked like he was facing one of his nightmares. And things had just gotten a lot more complicated.

“Steve,” Sam said, his voice a little tight. “Can we talk for a second?”

Loki and Bucky still looked like they were barely an inch from lunging at each other. “Kitchen?” He suggested delicately. Hopefully that was close enough, and from there he could stand where he could keep an eye on them both. Sam nodded.

He barely waited until they were out of reasonable earshot before saying, “Steve, you are asking for an explosion keeping them within ten feet of each other.”

“I noticed the…tension,” Steve said. “But what do you suggest I do? Bucky’s _here,_ Sam, and he remembers me, he’s free from Hydra-”

“You think,” Sam said. “How long has it been, Steve? How do you know Hydra didn’t find him first, reprogram him and send him in as a sleeper agent?” Steve stared at Sam, incredulous, anger bubbling under the surface. “Before you take my head off,” Sam added, “think for a second. He wouldn’t say how long he’d been watching or why he came here now-”

“You don’t seem worried about _Loki_ betraying us,” Steve said sharply. “But you’re suspicious of _Bucky_?”

Sam shook his head. “I _am_ worried about Loki deciding to murder us. I can worry about more than one thing at a time. And even if I _weren’t_ thinking about Hydra putting a sleeper agent in your apartment, one traumatized ticking time bomb was enough. Two – especially two that have _history_ – is a nuclear bomb sitting in your living room.”

“Again,” Steve said, the anger bubbling hotter, “what are you saying I should do? Throw Bucky out, turn him over to the government? I’d sooner-” He stopped, glancing toward the living room, guilt twisting in his stomach.

“Sooner turn out Loki?” Sam said. “Yeah, I figured. And you’d better think he’s figured, too.”

Steve closed his eyes for a second. Loki wasn’t stupid. What would he do if he thought he was going to lose his only shelter? Maybe try to eliminate the threat. And even if he didn’t…Steve had promised. Whether he liked it or not, Loki was his responsibility, and he’d said that he’d help. “I’ll…I’ll make sure he knows that’s not the way it is.” If Loki would believe him. Maybe Sam should take that job. “I know it’s a…volatile situation. But I don’t see another way. Not one I’m willing to take.”

Sam stared at him for a long moment, then sighed and nodded. “I kind of figured you’d say that,” he said, “but I had to make sure you knew.”

Steve tried to force a smile. “When have I ever made things easy for you, Sam?” Sam laughed, sort of, and Steve looked toward the living room. “Let’s go see if we can make this work.” _Somehow._

* * *

It was like living in a house with two strange cats. Two strange, _feral_ cats. Steve practically expected Bucky and Loki to start hissing at each other. Every time Loki looked at Bucky the corner of his eye twitched, and every time Bucky looked at Loki his metal hand flexed like he wanted a weapon in it. The tension in the apartment was so thick Steve could’ve cut it with a knife.

And Bucky was...Steve didn’t know what to do with Bucky. He was quiet, answering most questions in monosyllables. But he practically followed Steve around like a shadow. Sometimes it felt like having a bodyguard. Other times it felt like he was being stalked.

“I’m not in danger,” he tried telling Bucky, but he just looked at Steve blankly until Steve gave up with a sigh.

Steve hadn’t realized just how much progress Loki had made until it was gone. Loki looked at him - him _and_ Sam - with wary expectation and barely restrained panic that put Steve in mind of nothing so much as an animal caught in a trap. Sam tried to talk to him, but Loki just stared past him and Sam gave up, throwing his hands in the air and walking away.

“Is he going to make a run for it?” Steve asked lowly, what he hoped was out of earshot. Sam shook his head.

“I think if he was going to he would’ve by now.”

“Why hasn’t he?”

Sam shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe he figures it’s just as dangerous out there as it is here. Seems to me, though, that they’re both eyeing each other and waiting for the other one to make a move.”

Steve forced a laugh. “Bets on who’s going to snap first?” He said.

He hated this. _Hated_ it. How was he supposed to take care of Bucky when Bucky wouldn’t talk to him and he had to worry about keeping him from killing Loki in his sleep? He couldn’t kick Loki out now, but Loki wasn’t exactly helping the situation either.

They were all so keyed up and tense that another explosion was inevitable, and it came when Steve was in the shower and Sam was at work.

His only warning was raised voices and a crash. He jumped out from under the water, threw on his bathrobe and ran down the hall to the living room to see Loki pinning Bucky to the floor, lips peeled back in a snarl and blood running from a gash on his cheek. “ _Liar,_ ” he hissed. “I know what you are, I _know-_ ”

Anger and fear bloomed in Steve’s chest but even as he moved to yank Loki off Bucky moved faster. His metal fist drove into Loki’s shortribs, throwing him off balance just enough to flip them over. His other hand grabbed Loki’s throat, groping for the knife that was just out of reach.

“Stop!” Steve shouted, and they both froze. Bucky’s hand around Loki’s throat stayed where it was, but he stopped reaching for the knife, and Loki’s hands that had been going for Bucky’s eyes dropped back to the floor. Neither of them looked at him, though, staring at each other. Steve edged carefully forward to position himself between both of them and the knife, kicking it away.

“Buck,” he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “Let him go.”

Bucky didn’t move. “You don’t know how dangerous he is,” he said, voice rough, almost harsh. Steve tried not to flinch at how little he sounded like himself. “He’ll kill you first chance he gets.”

Loki’s inhales had little hitches on the end, like he was holding back a panic attack by his fingernails, but his eyes burned with pure, unadulterated hatred. “You’re wrong,” he said, and at first Steve thought he was talking to Bucky, but then he added, “about _him._ He was _there_ and he was their _creature._ Their _pet killer-_ ” His voice choked off as Bucky’s hand tightened.

“I’m not that anymore,” he said loudly. “I’m _not._ ”

“Bucky,” Steve said, his stomach churning. “Please.”

His fingers loosened, slightly. “I don’t remember everything,” he said, “but I remember _him._ I remember him getting one hand free - _one_ \- and slaughtering three people in twenty seconds. There wasn’t enough left of one of them to bury. A fourth one lost an arm.” His jaw tightened. “I’m not crying over HYDRA operatives. But this thing is an animal. A rabid one.”

Steve felt a chill down his spine. _Three people. Twenty seconds. One hand._ His stomach clenched. “They were torturing him,” he managed to say. “That’s...it’s self defense.”

“And he’s not going to _self defense_ you?”

Loki let out a high, breathless, and faintly insane sounding laugh. “I’m not the one who has been _stalking_ you like a _draugr_ hunting its prey!”

Steve jerked, utterly taken off guard. “Are you saying that – you’re _worried_ about me?”

Loki didn’t look at Steve, his eyes not moving from Bucky. His nostrils flared. “No,” he said after a moment, sounding like he was chewing on rocks. “I owe you a debt.”

 _So Sam was right,_ Steve thought, a little dazedly. _How about that._ “Bucky’s not going to hurt me,” he said firmly. “Buck…let him up.”

Finally, Bucky let go, shoving himself to his feet and backing away from both Loki and Steve. Loki sat up and scrambled back to put his back against the couch, wary eyes moving back and forth from Bucky to Steve and back.

“It’s all right,” Steve said, trying to sound soothing even though his heart was still pounding. “Everything’s…fine.”

“He’s lying to you,” Bucky said. He sounded almost plaintive, suddenly, like he needed Steve to believe him. Steve couldn’t make himself say _you’re wrong,_ not outright.

“You don’t know that,” he said instead. “Buck, I know you’re scared…”

Bucky’s eyes went flat and he turned on his heel, stalking down the hallway. He closed the bathroom door behind him, hard. Steve stared miserably after him.

He turned back to Loki, whose hand dropped quickly from his throat. His nostrils flared slightly and his expression was tight, but the overwhelming feeling was a sense of barely suppressed terror.

Steve took a deep breath. “I don’t care who started what,” he said, trying to keep his voice mild, “but don’t attack Bucky again. He’s not...what you think he is. I know him.” Loki said nothing, staring at him. “I’m not going to let him hurt you either,” Steve added.

Loki’s expression flickered slightly. “Wouldn’t you?”

Steve jerked. “What? No!” Loki looked doubtful, and Steve fought not to scowl. “Nobody’s hurting _anyone._ You or Bucky.” Still flat and unconvinced, and Steve shook his head, just managing not to roll his eyes. “I can’t make you believe me. But it’s true.” He paused. “So...you were trying to...protect me and Sam.”

Loki’s eyes cut away and his jaw shifted. He said nothing. Steve doubted that was all - certainly there was something _personal_ there, but the fact that it had come up… “I...appreciate the thought,” he said carefully. “But you really don’t need to do that. And definitely not from Bucky.”

“As you say,” Loki said stiffly. Steve held in his sigh.

He left Loki there and went after Bucky, figuring he’d better do damage control there sooner rather than later. He knocked on the bathroom door. “Bucky?”

Bucky poked his head out, his expression stony. “What.”

Steve scratched the back of his head. “I’m...sorry. If you felt like I was taking sides. I’m just trying to keep the peace.”

“The peace,” Bucky said. “Right.”

Steve glanced back toward the living room, wondering how closely Loki was listening. He lowered his voice. “I know you’re worried. And I understand why - trust me, I know he isn’t harmless. But right now...whatever you remember about seeing him, that’s where he was for the last two years. He’s not...what he was. And he knows Sam and I saved his life; that seems to mean something.”

Bucky’s expression flickered. “Maybe.”

“I’m not asking you to trust him,” Steve said. “Just…don’t try to kill him.”

Bucky’s lips thinned. “And when he kills you? Am I allowed to kill him then?” There was a little twist on _allowed._ Steve’s stomach kind of clenched, both at the implication and the voice, which hardly sounded like Bucky at all. _He’s changed,_ Steve reminded himself. _Of course he’s changed, you had to expect that._

“It won’t come to that,” Steve said, trying to sound both firm and soothing. “Sam and I aren’t stupid, Buck. We’re being careful.” Bucky just stared at him. One of his eyes twitched.

“Fine,” he said. “You know best. But if he flashes a knife at me again I’m not holding back.”

Steve squeezed his eyes closed. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling like he needed to… _defend_ Loki to _Bucky._ “He’s scared,” Steve said.

“That just makes him more dangerous.”

“Maybe,” Steve said, “but it also means…he’s scared of _you._ ”

Bucky’s expression twitched again. “Do you think I’m going to kill you?” He asked abruptly.

“No,” Steve said without hesitation. “You’re my friend.”

Another twitch of his eye. “Weapons don’t have friends,” Bucky said flatly. Steve flinched.

“You’re not a weapon,” he said roughly. “You’re Bucky Barnes.”

“And who is that,” Bucky said, but before Steve could answer he shook his head and shut the door. Steve rubbed his forehead and looked back toward the living room, wondering how much of that Loki had heard. When he went out to make lunch he picked up the discarded knife and glanced at Loki, who was curled up, apparently asleep again. He seemed to do a lot of that. Steve wondered how much was faking and how much was just the energy it took to heal from two years of Hydra’s torture.

 _Wasn’t enough left of one to bury._ Steve suppressed a shiver and looked at Loki again. His breathing was quiet and unsteady, just a trace of a whimper on every other exhale.

Steve wondered abruptly if Bucky had done more than just watch. It was an unpleasant thought.

* * *

Steve woke up with a start and glanced reflexively over at the air mattress Sam had loaned him. He felt his chest seize up: it was empty.

A moment later he realized that he could hear the low sound of voices and his heart started racing. Sam wasn’t staying the night, and Steve doubted that he’d come over unexpectedly at 2 am. Which meant Bucky had snuck out to the living room and was talking to Loki.

At least it was only talking, Steve thought as he clambered out of bed, not bothering to tug on a robe. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

“—do you want,” Loki was saying, his voice just a little too loud.

“I could ask you the same question.” Bucky’s voice sounded level and flat but not angry, exactly. Steve fell still, his heart fluttering. Loki said nothing, and after a moment Bucky snorted. “Should I answer that for you? You’re hiding here because Rogers is too _nice_ for his own good and you can’t get it together enough to leave.” _Rogers,_ Steve thought with a pang, and stepped quickly forward, prepared for Loki to snap back and start a fight.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what I want,” Loki said, and he just sounded tired, though his voice hardened a moment later. “Except for one thing. I will not go back. If that is why you are here-”

“I don’t give a damn about you,” Bucky said. Loki was quiet and after a moment Bucky laughed harshly. “Self-centered ass.”

“You were theirs,” Loki said, his voice hardening. “What you remember is but half of what happened. _One hand,_ you said. The work of months. And they allowed it for one reason. A test.” Steve leaned forward, poised on the balls of his feet to move, but also…listening. “They wanted to see what you could do. Not in a fair fight, of course. They wouldn’t risk you that much.”

Steve felt faintly nauseous. It wasn’t Bucky, he reminded himself. Not really. He inched forward and heard Bucky’s breathing, harsh and uneven.

“I don’t remember-”

“There’s a great deal you don’t remember, isn’t there?” Silence. Loki coughed a mirthless laugh. “So I ask again. What do you want?”

“None of your fucking business,” Bucky said loudly. Steve heard the shuffle of movement. “I’m going to sleep.”

“No you aren’t,” Loki said. His voice sounded different than it usually did – smoother, more sure. “You haven’t slept in days. You pretend, but-”

“Have you?” Bucky interrupted. There was a brief pause.

“No,” Loki said. “Not enough.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said after a moment. He just sounded awkward, now, a little uncertain. “Watch yourself, okay? You might have Steve and Wilson fooled but I know what you are.”

“Good,” Loki said, oddly. “So do I.”

Steve left in a hurry, not wanting Bucky to catch him listening. He was still awake when he heard Bucky pad back into the bedroom and lie down, and managed to doze off slightly after to extraordinarily uncomfortable dreams.

The next morning, he woke up early and slipped out to the grocery. It was a risk, but after the earlier abortive endeavor, it wasn’t one he could put off anymore. He hoped that the pears he picked up would work as a kind of peace offering, though he wasn’t sure why he felt like he needed one.

He realized as he checked out that he should’ve asked if Bucky wanted anything. He didn’t really know what Bucky would like anymore. Or couldn’t assume that he did.

That was an unhappy thought.

When he got back, plastic bags slung over his arm, Bucky was already dressed and on his feet. Loki appeared to still be sleeping, which Steve doubted was really the case.

“Good morning,” Steve said, keeping his voice down anyway. “I went grocery shopping, but if I forgot anything you wanted…”

“I’m going for a run,” Bucky announced. Steve stopped dead.

“What?” He said, and then shook himself, glanced at Loki, and said, “are you sure that’s…safe?”

“Nothing’s safe,” Bucky said, reassuringly. “But no one’s going to recognize me. And it’s early. And if someone does recognize me, I can deal with it.”

Steve pressed his lips together. “Deal with it how?” He asked carefully.

“Kill them and hide their body in the sewer,” Bucky said without blinking. Steve’s thoughts went blank and he froze up, but then Bucky’s lips twisted. “I’m not an idiot. I can blend in. Deaths attract attention.”

 _And that’s the only reason you wouldn’t go straight to murder?_ Steve thought, a little anguished, but he pushed that away. Bucky fidgeted.

“I need to get out of here,” he said flatly. Steve’s breath caught.

“Okay,” he said, trying to beat down the panic threatening to rise in him. “Okay, if you can wait five minutes I can get changed and come with-”

“I don’t need a handler,” Bucky interrupted, nearly a snarl. “Is that what you are, Steve? My handler?”

He flinched. Bucky made a derisive sort of noise and left before Steve could stop him. Steve wavered, torn between running after him to make sure he didn’t get into any kind of trouble and leaving Bucky alone since he clearly wanted his space. He landed reluctantly on the latter and trudged over to the kitchen to put away the groceries.

He pulled out eggs to make an omelette when he heard movement and looked up to see Loki standing there looking at him. He looked exhausted and drawn again, more than he had before Bucky’s arrival. Steve shook himself.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual. “Sleep well?” Stupid question, he realized the moment it was out of his mouth. He knew the answer already. He’d just been trying for something innocuous.

“No,” Loki said. He was keeping carefully more than an arm’s length distance away, Steve noticed, though only when he reached over to grab a bowl for the eggs and Loki moved away.

Steve cleared his throat. “I, uh. Got you some pears. They’re in the fridge. A few different kinds. I wasn’t sure if you had a preference.”

Loki looked at him in silence, expression blank. Steve held back the urge to clear his throat again. “Did you…want something?”

“You were listening,” Loki said. Steve blinked, and Loki added, “last night.”

Steve’s first reaction was an immediate wave of embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping, and then a wave of guilt, and then immediately after the thought: _did Bucky know?_ Was that why he’d been so…testy, because he thought Steve had been spying on him, or something?

“I have sharp ears,” Loki said, apparently taking Steve’s silence as denial. “I heard someone moving down the hall. The footsteps stopped but the bathroom door did not open.”

 _Very_ sharp ears, Steve thought ruefully. He wondered if Loki had overheard every conversation he and Sam had had about him. “I…woke up and Bucky was gone,” he said slowly. “I was worried.”

“Worried that he had attacked me or that I would attack him?”

Steve knew a trap of a question when he heard one. “Just worried,” he said.

“And did you learn anything interesting?”

Did Loki know how long Steve had been listening? Was he trying to make a point or trying to figure out what Steve might’ve heard?

Trying to figure out what Loki was thinking was going to give him a headache. Steve set down the carton of eggs and turned to look directly at Loki.

“If there’s something you want to say,” he started.

“No,” Loki said too quickly, taking a step back. “Nothing.”

Steve frowned. “Is something wrong?”

 _If it were would I tell you?_ said the look on Loki’s face.

Steve just managed not to groan. “So…yes, but you’re not going to say what,” he said flatly, turning back to the makings of his omelette. “Right.” Bucky thought Steve was trying to control him, and Loki thought…who _knew_ what Loki thought. “Well, if you change your mind, I’m around. Or Sam will be here later today, if you’d rather.”

Steve thought Loki had gone, but when he looked up a moment later he was still there. Studying Steve like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Thank you,” he said abruptly. “For the pears.”

He turned and beat a hasty retreat before Steve could respond.

* * *

The evening started out quietly enough.

Steve was cooking lasagna, Sam on watch duty in the living room, though when Steve had last looked in on him he seemed to be reading.

Started quietly. Didn’t last.

“Quit staring at me,” Steve heard Bucky say. He tensed, pausing.

Loki’s voice was quieter. “Why?”

“The fact that I told you to isn’t good enough? How about ‘if you don’t I’ll punch you in the face’, is that better?”

“Hey,” Sam said sharply. “Dial it down a notch.” Steve turned off the stove but stayed where he was for now. Right now, his walking in might just make it worse. Add another element into a tense situation.

“Predictable,” Loki said. “Snarling and snapping. Playing guard dog.”

“What’s that make you,” Bucky sneered. “A yappy little mutt?”

“Both of you,” Sam said, but Loki spoke over him.

“You slipped one leash and ran right into another,” Loki said, voice still soft but somehow...poisonous. “You don’t know how to live without one anymore.”

“You talk big for someone _cowering_ in his enemy’s house.”

Steve turned and stepped out of the kitchen. Sam had set down his book. “Any time you guys want to stop this verbal pissing contest,” he said dryly, but Steve could hear the nerves underneath. Loki and Bucky bristled at each other seemingly without hearing a word.

Loki’s spine was stiff as a board. “I know where I stand. Do you?”

“Hey,” Steve said. “Did you hear Sam? Break it off.”

Bucky took a step forward and Loki rose to his feet. “Stand? Ha. Jumping at shadows, checking out at the drop of a hat, you’re barely keeping it _together._ ”

“Buck,” Steve said, his voice strained. Sam stood up.

“Knock it off,” he said. “Now.”

Loki’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “Whereas you…you’re pretending to be a person almost well enough to convince yourself.”

Anger flared in Steve’s chest but Bucky was already talking, posture straining forward like he was just inches from lunging for Loki – and Steve wasn’t sure he’d have blamed him. “At least I _was_ a person,” he snarled. “You – what the hell are you supposed to be? Not a _god,_ that’s for damn sure.”

Loki made an inarticulate, furious sound. Sam moved faster than Steve could, shoving in between them. “ _O_ kay,” he said. “That’s _enough,_ remember what I said about the _no killing_ rule?”

“Get out of my way,” Loki said, his eyes fixed on Bucky, breathing rapidly. Sam shook his head.

“Nuh-uh. Fat _fucking_ chance.”

“I said _get out of my way,_ ” Loki snarled, and moved, grabbing Sam and throwing him to the side.

An ordinary person might not even have been able to budge Sam. Or at best might’ve pushed him over. Loki wasn’t ordinary, and even as weak as he was Sam went flying and hit the floor _hard._

“Sam!” Steve surged forward and seized Loki by the collar, dragging him back and shoving him down onto the couch, planting himself with his back to Bucky, trusting that he, at least, wouldn’t attack. “Sit down and _stay_ down,” he said, and if he didn’t yell, his voice vibrated with the force behind it. “You don’t talk to Bucky like that. And you _don’t_ attack Sam. You hear me?” He’d have to tell Bucky the same thing, but right now _pretending to be a person_ was still stuck in his head, and the image of Sam going flying.

“I’m fine,” Sam said, though he sounded a little shaken. “Steve, trying to _de-_ escalate, remember?”

Steve glanced at Sam, who was pushing himself to his feet, and looked back at Loki staring up at him. He blanked his face fast, but not quite fast enough that Steve didn’t see the fear. _You manhandled him and now you’re looming over him,_ a dispassionate voice in the back of his head murmured. _It’s a wonder you didn’t shove him into a panic attack._

Steve took a step back, quickly, and turned to look at Bucky, whose face was just as closed off as Loki’s. “Buck…” There were a lot of things he wanted to say. _You are a person_ first among them, but also _you shouldn’t rise to his bait_ and _you shouldn’t have said what you did about him, either._

“I’m going for a run,” Bucky said flatly. Steve jerked.

“It’s dark out.”

“Plenty of street lights.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but caught the slight shake of Sam’s head out of the corner of his eye. He let Bucky go.

“Are you really okay?” He asked Sam, who was rotating his wrist back and forth. He grimaced.

“Yeah. Going to have a couple bruises but I’ve gotten worse in boot camp.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe you should go home now.”

“I don’t think I want to leave you to deal with this alone tonight.”

Steve sighed. “Sam…”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I agreed to this, all right? Against my better judgment, maybe, but _I_ agreed. So don’t go taking responsibility for my choices. Just get me a big fucking cake for my birthday and we’ll call it good.”

Steve looked at Loki, wondering if he should say anything more. He seemed to be sitting very still and looking at nothing.

“Leave it,” Sam said quietly. “Give him some space, same as Bucky.”

Steve nodded, slowly. He summoned a wan smile. “Still want lasagna?”

Sam snorted. “Sounds great. Nice, casual evening, Captain America cooking me dinner. Who could turn that down?”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Steve said honestly.

“I know you are,” Sam said. “What are friends for, if not assisting with their friends’ wild and crazy schemes? Just most people's involve less, you know. Threats and murder.”

“Spice of life,” Steve said dryly.

“Sure is.”

Steve glanced over at Loki again, still staring into space. Steve wished he knew what he was thinking about. He didn’t guess it was anything good.

* * *

Bucky didn’t say more than two words when he got back, just took a shower and went to bed. Or at least laid down and didn’t respond to questions. Loki said even less. Neither touched the lasagna Steve offered.

He put it in the fridge, hoping that one or both of them would find it there later, and went to bed. Sam, after some brief discussion, went home then, mostly because Steve was running out of places to put people up.

Bucky woke him up with two words: “Loki’s gone.”

Steve shot upright. “What?”

“He’s gone,” Bucky said flatly. “Living room’s empty. He wasn’t there when I went out. No sign of a struggle. Looks like he just took off.”

Steve grabbed for his phone and texted Sam, scrambling out of bed and tugging on a shirt. “Took off?” This was exactly what he’d been worried about. But he’d gotten relaxed, stopped feeling like he had to watch Loki all the time, and now he was loose. He could be _anywhere._

Sam texted him back. _On my way._ Steve hurried out to the living room, Bucky shadowing him, though he wasn’t sure what he expected to see. Everything looked more or less as he’d left it going to bed. Except no Loki, and this time he wasn’t out on the balcony.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and swore. _Did_ Loki have the use of his magic? Steve still hadn’t seen him use any, but he might’ve just been playing down his strength to lull them into a sense of security. For a fraction of a second he wondered if Bucky had had something to do with this, but – no.

“He’s still weak,” Bucky said abruptly. “Unsteady. He might not have gotten far.”

“I need to start looking,” Steve said. “See if…maybe you’re right. He could still be close by.” He glanced at Bucky. “Can you stay here? Tell Sam where I went?”

Bucky nodded, very slightly. Steve considered changing from his sweats into jeans and decided not to take the time, though he did throw on a coat before hurrying down the stairs and out of the building.

As it turned out, Loki hadn’t gotten far.

Steve found him a few blocks away, on the ground between a bench and a bush. There were a few people standing nearby, glancing uncertainly at him, and Steve thanked God for both people's hesitance to intervene and Loki’s own sorry condition that was undoubtedly keeping him from being recognized.

He wished he had a hat or something to make himself less recognizable, but fortunately when he moved toward Loki the others seemed to take it as permission to move on, averting their eyes.

Steve pulled out his phone to text Sam _found him_ and put it away, just looking at Loki for a long moment. Had he been trying to get away or just wanting to get out, like he had on the balcony?

Either way, he wasn’t running now. Based on the blank thousand-yard stare he had on right now, Loki was somewhere else entirely.

Steve cleared his throat and crouched down. “Loki,” he said, pitching his voice low so no one else would overhear it. “Can you hear me?”

Loki blinked once and his head turned slightly toward Steve. He saw a brief flicker of awareness that was quickly smothered.

“It’s me,” he said. “Um. Steve. I don’t know…why you took off, but it looks like…maybe you should come back. With me.”

Loki blinked again. This time the awareness was a little clearer. “Why?” he asked. His voice sounded strained, like he was fighting for the words. “You are going to make me leave eventually.”

Steve jerked back. He remembered what Sam had said: _you’d better think he’s figured too._ Steve had said he’d say something, but thinking back he couldn’t remember if he had.

Briefly, guiltily, he wondered if that had been intentional. If he’d _wanted_ Loki to leave, because then he’d be in the clear. It wouldn’t be his responsibility. But even as he thought it he rejected it. No, it was just that in all the chaos it’d slipped his mind.

“I’m not,” he said. “I told you.”

“That was before.” Loki seemed to be fighting for focus and on the verge of losing it. Steve shook his head.

“That doesn’t change what I said. It…sure, Bucky being here makes things more complicated. But I’m going to figure it out.” He took a deep breath and added, “and I’m…sorry, that I didn’t make that more clear.”

Loki’s eyebrows knitted together like he was struggling to parse what Steve said. Steve sighed; probably he’d have to repeat it later. “Want to come back?” He asked. “That…can’t be very comfortable.”

By the way Loki looked around, he might not have realized where he’d ended up. Steve held out a hand, but wasn’t particularly surprised when Loki didn’t take it. He wondered when had been the last time Loki could remember being touched without intent to hurt.

The thought just made him feel tired.

Somehow they made it back to the apartment without drawing more than a few stares, though Loki didn’t really seem to be paying much attention, still half off in wherever it was he’d gone. Dissociating, Steve knew it was called, and wished he didn’t.

Bucky looked up sharply when the door opened from where he was seemingly studying Steve’s bookshelves. Sam straightened, looking from Steve to Loki and back.

“He was only about a block away,” Steve said, feeling a small twinge for speaking over Loki’s head. Loki didn’t object, though, just walked a little unsteadily over to the couch and sat down. Bucky’s jaw twitched, looking at him, and then he turned on his heel and left the room. Steve looked after him, pained.

“So what happened,” Sam asked. It was directed at Loki, but when he didn’t answer Sam looked at Steve. He rubbed his forehead.

“Loki figured he was going to be losing his place here and he might as well get it over with,” Steve said, as blandly as he could.

“Ah,” Sam said after a moment. Maybe Steve was imagining the judgment in his tone. Maybe. He looked worriedly down the hall after Bucky, and Sam glanced at him and nodded.

“Go on,” he said. “I’ll take it from here.”

Steve headed down the hallway after Bucky and found the bedroom door closed. He knocked.

“Yeah,” Bucky said after a moment.

Steve let himself in. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For…going along with this. I know it would be easier for you if…he wasn’t here. But you didn’t…” He shrugged. “I appreciate it, that’s all.”

Bucky just stared at him. Finally he sat down on the bed. “It’s not just about who he is,” he said abruptly. Steve blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“Why I don’t like him. Can’t deal with him. It’s not just about the fact that he’s…I can’t claim to be a whole lot better.” Bucky laughed humorlessly. Steve opened his mouth to protest, but Bucky shook his head. “No, listen.” He gestured at the door. “Him. The way he is. That could be me. _Broken._ ” His lips twisted. “If I don’t hold it together maybe it will be. And that’s why being in the same room as him makes my skin crawl.”

Steve felt a deep ache in his chest. “But you’re not,” he said, though he could hear the unsteadiness in his voice. “And you’re safe now.”

“Am I?” Bucky’s jaw shifted. “You sure about that?”

“I’m going to protect you,” Steve said. Bucky’s expression twitched.

“Some things you can’t protect me from.”

 _I will, though,_ Steve thought. _I’ll find a way._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's me! I'm back!
> 
> I'm a bit (a lot) sick at the moment, so not a whole lot to say in the author's notes this chapter. Except that I'm still delighted by the response to this fic, and how much you people seem to be enjoying it. Everyone's having a great time! Well, everyone who isn't a character in this fic, anyway. 
> 
> Thanks ever so much to my beta, as always.

He’d made a foolish mistake.

The math had seemed simple at the time. He’d lashed out at Sam (his thoughts stumbled a little over the name, but easier to think of him as ‘Sam’ than to think of the other as ‘Steve’), hurt him, and if the Captain had not answered with violence he had felt the threat of it, the panic squeezing his throat as he stood over Loki, his voice harsh and angry.

He’d pushed too far. The soldier was a threat, clear as glass, but _off limits_ , protected. Loki could feel the walls closing in. He knew he remained here on sufferance, and that sufferance had grown thin as a knife.

When it ran out, Loki knew where he would go. He could imagine it, slithering fear winding through his guts, making him sick. Maybe the same box, maybe a different one, but the pain would be the same.

He’d intended to wait longer, to regather his strength, wait for his magic to return fully, but there was no longer time. So he ran.

There were enough streetlights that it wasn’t wholly dark, but he could still feel himself starting to shiver, the shadows in between seeming to press down on him, seethe with hidden monsters. Someone was walking behind him and Loki hunched his shoulders, quickened his pace. That shape to his left - a HYDRA agent crouching behind a bush?

His heart was racing and Loki was starting to feel dizzy. He fought against it, beginning to realize how foolish he’d been. Where was he going? He had nothing. No money, no magic, nothing but the clothes on his back that weren’t even _his._ He was already starting to feel his weakness creeping up on him. What if HYDRA had been watching all along? Waiting for him to be alone, exposed, vulnerable…

He staggered, catching himself on the arm of a bench and gasping. _Pitiful,_ whispered a voice in the back of his mind. _Pathetic._ Loki squeezed his eyes closed and fought for control. A siren sounded in the distance and Loki whirled around, scanning the darkness with wild eyes.

A car swung around the corner, headlights stabbing through the darkness, blazing in Loki’s eyes-

_Pinned down, light blinding him, they’d done him the courtesy of numbing his face but he could still feel the whine of the drill against bone-_

So had the Captain found him. Curled up on the ground, unmanned by a pair of headlights.

What choice did he have? He went back. There was nowhere else to go. He couldn’t run from the wreckage of his own mind.

* * *

Things were...quiet.

It wasn’t a good quiet. Or - it was a quiet that at least didn’t involve overt violence, but anxiety still thrummed in Steve’s body. He was constantly tense, feeling like there was a storm brewing on the horizon. Or maybe a storm that had already broken and left a whole bunch of smashed houses behind.

Loki had gone back to complete silence, and as far as Steve could tell wasn’t eating. Bucky was avoiding him. He seemed to be out of the apartment more often than in, and even when he was there he seemed to have a masterful ability to be in any room Steve wasn’t. Given the amount of space in the apartment, Steve was almost impressed.

It was wearing on him. And Steve could tell it was wearing on Sam, too, though he just gave Steve a look when Steve tried to suggest he take a break.

Maybe three days after Loki’s ill-fated adventure, Sam plunked Steve’s laptop down in front of him while Bucky was shut in the bedroom and Loki was in the shower. “Here.”

Steve looked up at Sam, confused. “What?”

Sam pointed at the screen. “We’re moving.”

Steve turned to look. It was a website. For house rentals, he realized. Steve scrolled down a few and then looked at Sam. Sam crossed his arms.

“Look,” he said. “This isn’t working. You’re trying to live in a one-bedroom apartment with two natural disasters, one of whom has an aversion to touch. It’s. Not. Working. You need space. You need privacy. So. We’re moving.”

“My lease,” Steve started to say.

“Sublet,” Sam said bluntly. Steve hesitated, and Sam sighed. “You know I’m right. It won’t fix everything - not by a long shot - but at least it’ll make it so everyone has a little more room to avoid each other.”

He was right, and Steve did know it. Somehow it still felt like…admitting defeat. “All right,” he said. “I’ll…start looking.” Then he registered something he’d missed. “Wait. _We’re_ moving?”

“Well, yeah,” Sam said. “I spend a fair amount of time here anyway. If you’re actually going to have _room,_ I might as well cut down on my commuting time.”

“Sam…”

He pointed at the laptop screen. “Don’t give me the guilt lecture. Just start looking. All right?”

Steve felt a crooked smile tugging at his lips and shook his head slightly. “All right.” He paused, glanced over his shoulder, and lowered his voice. “Has Loki…said anything to you?”

Sam grimaced. “Not really. Not since…since. I take it you either?”

“Not two words.” Steve rubbed his eyes. “Do you think I should…do something?”

“Like what?” Sam asked bluntly. Steve just looked at him bleakly, and Sam shook his head. “I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know everything. He’s spooked and probably embarrassed. Seems to me the best thing you can do is find a way to convince him you’re not going to throw him out.”

“You,” Steve started to say.

“I don’t know if it’s guilt or what,” Sam interrupted, “but I tried and he just did his best statue impression. This one might be better coming from you.”

Steve sighed. “I’ve _tried._ I said-”

“There’s your problem,” Sam said. “Does Loki strike you as a guy who’s going to take your word for it? In his world, I’d guess promises are cheap.”

“Then what?” Steve asked.

“Giving him his own bedroom is probably a start,” Sam said, looking pointedly at the laptop. Steve grimaced, turning back to the screen. 

“What about the other traumatized disaster?” Sam asked after a moment.

That was it, wasn’t it. Bucky. His friend, his _best_ friend was back, and safe, and Steve didn’t have any idea how to talk to him. Bucky had said…what he’d said, that he was scared of going to pieces, and now he seemed to want to forget he’d said anything at all. The few times Steve had managed to catch him for a few minutes, he’d tried to talk to Bucky about what he was going through, and Bucky just…shut down. And more often than not, took off.

Steve didn’t know what he was doing, and that terrified him.

“I don’t know,” he said, looking down. “He’s been going out. For runs. He won’t let me come along.” Sam’s expression flickered, and Steve tensed. “What, do you still think he’s HYDRA’s spy?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sam said levelly. “What if someone recognizes him? Or something triggers him?”

Steve shook his head. “I _know._ But he won’t let me join him. He gets…” Aggressive, Steve thought, but he didn’t want to say it. “I don’t want him to feel boxed in. Or like I’m trying to control him.”

“Fair,” Sam said after a moment. “And probably smart. But…” He exhaled loudly through his nostrils. “Let me think about it.” He paused. “Have you considered leaving the city entirely? If you could find something with a couple acres, away from people…”

Steve gave Sam a skeptical look. “Live on a farm?”

Sam didn’t laugh. “It’d minimize the damage control you’d have to do if one or both of them does explode. Less chance of Bucky getting recognized. Space. Quiet. And a hell of a lot cheaper.”

He’d always lived in a city. _Bucky_ had always lived in a city, even if it wasn’t this one. Wouldn’t it be better to stay in the kind of environment he was used to?

_Always? He’s spent the last seventy-odd years brainwashed and in and out of cryo. Who knows what he’s used to anymore?_

And Sam was right about damage control, too. Steve didn’t like thinking about it, but…he was putting his neighbors in danger.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally. He heard the shower shut off and closed the laptop. “And I’ll start looking.”

* * *

Steve set his alarm a little earlier than Bucky usually got up and rolled out of bed. “Hey, Buck,” he said, keeping his voice low and giving the air mattress a nudge. “I’m going for a run. Want to join me?”

He’d learned the first time trying to wake Bucky up from a nightmare that touching him while he was asleep was as bad an idea as touching Loki at all.

Bucky woke up fast and stared at Steve for a couple seconds. He braced himself for a ‘no’, reminding himself that he wasn’t going to be disappointed. He _wasn’t._

“Yeah,” he said slowly, sitting up. “Sure.”

Steve had half opened his mouth to say something like _okay, I’ll be back in a bit_ and had to catch himself. “Ah- great,” he said, surprised pleasure and relief – probably out of proportion – sweeping through him. “I’ll just get changed and – meet you in the stairwell?” Hopefully they’d be able to sneak out without waking up anyone else.

Steve did a quick change in the bathroom and hurried out. He paused in the living room and looked at Loki, skin prickling, and saw that his eyes were open.

He remembered abruptly what he’d said to Bucky about not sleeping. Steve couldn’t remember hearing his nightmares in a while; he’d assumed that had just eased up but maybe that wasn’t it.

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Steve looked at Loki, who looked back at him, expressionless. After a long, silent moment Loki’s eyes closed. Steve hunted for something to say, but a moment later he heard quiet footsteps in the hallway and Bucky emerged. He didn’t so much as glance at Loki, just walked by and to the door.

“I’ll be right there,” Steve said. Some part of him twanged nervously, murmuring _he’s going to leave without you._ But he had to try to trust at least a little. Bucky nodded once and slipped out.

“Um…” Steve looked at Loki, took a breath and let it out slowly. “We’ll…just be gone for a bit. If you need anything…”

He went into the kitchen and wrote down his phone number and Sam’s on a piece of paper before realizing that he didn’t have a landline and Loki didn’t have a cell phone. He squeezed his eyes closed.

“Sam’ll be here in a couple hours,” he said, coming back out. “You should probably…try to get some rest.”

No response. Steve supposed he shouldn’t have expected one.

He sighed and let himself out, relieved to see Bucky still standing in the stairwell, positioned where he could watch the stairs both up and down.

“Thanks for coming with me,” he said. Bucky nodded, barely, and after a moment Steve just turned and went down the stairs. He could hear Bucky following.

Steve took his usual route. Initially he set a slower pace than he usually would, but Bucky snorted and sped up to something closer to something that would get Steve’s heart pumping. They ran in silence, but Steve felt something in him loosen, ever so slightly - not just for the exercise, which felt _good_ and he’d been sorely lacking lately, but for what felt nearly companionable. Almost _normal._

When they reached Rock Creek he slowed and stopped by a bench to stretch. For a moment he thought Bucky would keep running without him, but then he slowed as well.

“I was talking with Sam,” Steve said. “We’re thinking about moving. Somewhere with more space. Maybe even a house out of the city.” He glanced in Bucky’s direction and found a smile. “You could have your own room.”

Bucky did not look immediately overjoyed. “Can you afford that?”

“I can make it work.”

“Is this about keeping me - or _him_ \- away from the neighbors?”

_Of course not,_ Steve started to say, but he looked at Bucky’s intense stare and had the feeling he already knew the answer and just wanted to know if Steve would say it. “In part,” he said reluctantly. “But it’s not - it’s as much about what’d be helpful for you as anything.”

Bucky’s jaw twitched. “You’re doing it again. _Handling_ me.”

Steve jerked. “I’m - what? _No._ I’m trying to help, Buck. Right now we’re all living on top of each other and it’s not...working. But if - if you want something else, just say…”

“And if I said I wanted _him_ out?”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, after a brief hesitation. “I can’t.”

Bucky exhaled loudly. “Do _you_ want to move?” He asked. “If it were just up to you…”

“It’s not that simple,” Steve protested.

“Because you have an obligation.”

“That’s not it,” Steve said, frustrated. “I’ve been _looking_ for you, Buck. Ever since I saw you, since I knew you were alive, I’ve been searching. And now that you’re back, that you’re _here -_ I just want to do right by you. Whatever that is.”

Bucky’s lips twisted. “And him? Loki?”

Steve rubbed his eyes. “You didn’t see where we found him. Bricked up in this tiny room. He’d been there for - a while. There’s nowhere else for him to go.”

Bucky’s face was impossible to read, but after a long pause he seemed to slump, looking away. “A house,” he mumbled. “Could be nice.”

Steve slumped, too. “You can help me look,” he said. “Find a place that you like.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Thanks.” He took a deep breath. “Wilson thinks I’m a sleeper agent. That they’ve still got their hooks in me.”

Steve stiffened. “I don’t believe it,” he said quickly. “Sam’s just being cautious.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s a possibility.” Steve’s throat closed. When he could breathe again, he swallowed hard. Bucky looked at him, head cocked slightly to the side. “I wouldn’t necessarily know,” he said evenly. “My memory’s...not always clear. About a lot of things. Or maybe my memories aren’t real. It’s good, that Wilson’s suspicious. You should be too.”

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to doubt you. I trusted you on the helicarrier-”

Bucky hissed. “I almost killed you on the helicarrier. Remember?”

“But you didn’t,” Steve insisted. “You saved my life. You broke free. Have a little faith in yourself-”

“I can’t,” Bucky said sharply. “You don’t get it, Steve. Loki might be a bastard but he was right. I was HYDRA’s _creature_ for decades and there’s no way for me to be sure that’s all gone. So I’m glad that you have Wilson looking out for you because next time I _will_ kill you, and you won’t raise a hand to stop it.”

Bucky turned his back and started running. Steve stared after him feeling like he’d been punched in the gut, but made himself start running after.

“I trust you,” he said when he caught up. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

“Maybe,” Bucky said, but he didn’t sound like he believed it.

* * *

Steve trudged up the stairs to the apartment, trying not to let his brain go in circles around everything Bucky had said. He’d find a way to prove to him that Bucky was free, that he was safe. Somehow.

He stepped into the apartment to a delicious smell. “Sam?” He called, walking over to the kitchen. Bucky, to his relief, didn’t immediately vanish into the bedroom or bathroom, sitting down on the couch and pulling off his shoes. “What’re you making? Smells…”

He blinked, startled. Sam was indeed in the kitchen, chopping vegetables, but so was Loki, apparently stirring a pot on the stove - though he froze when he saw Steve, looking at him with wide eyes as though he’d been caught misbehaving.

“We’re making chili,” Sam said, perfectly calmly. “Good run?”

“Um...yeah,” Steve said. “It was...fine.”

Loki moved, abruptly, and Steve half started to respond but he was just pulling the spoon out of the pot and putting it down. “Excuse me,” he said, mostly to Sam, and if he’d moved just a little faster Steve would have called it ‘bolting.’ As it was, somehow he managed to maneuver past Steve and out of the kitchen without so much as brushing against him.

Steve looked at Sam, bewildered. Sam gave him a faintly annoyed look.

“What’d I do?” Steve asked.

“Lost me my sous chef, is what you did,” Sam said. “Hey, Bucky. Feel like helping me finish this chili?”

Bucky seemed to appear next to Steve, glancing back and forth between them. “What?”

“Chili,” Sam said, pointing at the pot. “The meat’s almost finished and it’ll need draining. I didn’t think this was all that complicated.”

“Sam,” Steve said, a combination of exasperated and confused.

“Sorry, Steve,” Sam said. “Bucky and I are making lunch right now, and this is definitely a two person kitchen, max.”

Steve stared at Sam a moment longer, then backed off. Bucky gave him an odd look, and Sam an even odder one, but Bucky stepped into the kitchen.

Which left Steve with Loki, who was not in the living room. Steve sighed and walked over to the bathroom, knocking on the closed door. Just a guess, but he thought it was a good one. There was no response, so Steve cautiously tried the door and opened it slowly.

Loki was sitting with his back to the bathtub, knees pulled up and forehead against them, by the sound of it doing deep breathing exercises. Steve cleared his throat cautiously and Loki’s whole body went rigid.

“It’s just me,” Steve said quickly, and then realized that might not be comforting, based on the way Loki was acting around him. Again. After a long moment Loki did look up, expression guarded and wary.

“Yes?”

Steve hesitated, then put his back to the door and sat down as well. It didn’t leave a lot of space, but he could still sit where he wasn’t touching Loki. “You didn’t need to leave.” Loki just looked at him, and Steve sighed. “Why did you think you did?”

“You and Barnes were back,” Loki said after a moment, sounding as though he thought it should be obvious. Steve blinked.

“Sorry, what?”

Loki shook his head and clamped his lips together. The wariness was gone, though, replaced by a sort of bleak exhaustion.

“Whatever you are doing, you needn’t,” he said. “I do not require...I am grateful that you...allow me to remain. I do not ask more than that.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked carefully. Loki closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling.

“You do not want me here,” he said simply. “I am aware of that. You have no further use for me, now that your friend is here, and I cannot provide you with more information about your enemies. You allow me to stay because you are...kind, but I will not try your patience by imposing on your presence or asking that you…” He made a gesture that seemed to attempt to encompass Steve, the room, the situation.

“That I what?” Steve asked, still not quite understanding.

“That you act as though it matters,” Loki said wearily. “You are...polite, but I would sooner not try your patience.”

Steve sat back heavily, staring at Loki and trying to figure out what he was saying. Or, more than that, how to address it. The thing was, it was astonishingly simple, and not entirely incorrect: Loki had assessed his position and located it at the bottom of the hierarchy. It’d been clear before Bucky’s arrival that Loki believed his safety was contingent on providing the information Steve wanted, and apparently what Steve had said then hadn’t sunk in. Steve had assumed Loki was avoiding him and shutting down because Steve had spooked him, but this had more to do with Loki trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible, because drawing attention meant risking his already tenuous position.

“God,” Steve said, quietly. That was...a lot. And the fact that some of it was _true,_ in a way…

He decided to start with something concrete. “I don’t know if you heard me talking to Sam,” he said, “but we’re probably going to move to a bigger place. I think both you and Bucky could benefit.” Loki didn’t reply, and Steve added, “I meant it. About not making you leave. Maybe you didn’t hear me when I said it before…”

“I heard you.” Loki dropped his head forward, but only looked at Steve through his eyelashes. “I believe you.”

“But that doesn’t just mean…” Steve exhaled. “That doesn’t just mean I’m going to pretend you’re not here.” The wariness in Loki’s eyes did not ease. “If you’re not...comfortable around me, for whatever reason, that’s one thing. But don’t think that you need to leave rooms just cause I’m in them.”

Steve wished it wasn’t so damn hard to get a read on Loki’s expression. He could be thinking anything, for all Steve could tell. He shifted his jaw back and forth grimacing.

“I know you...don’t have a lot of reasons to trust me. And more than a few not to. But I’m trying, and if there’s anything I can do better, I wish you’d let me know.” He hesitated, and added, “and, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I...manhandled you the other night. I was worried about Sam, but he seems to have let it go. I meant what I said about you saying those things to Bucky, but not everything he said was all that peachy keen either.”

Still that unreadable look - or non-look - on Loki’s face. Steve glanced away, rubbing his forehead. “Anyway. I’ll leave you alone. Just something to think about.” He started to stand up.

“Thank you,” Loki said abruptly. Steve glanced at him, surprised, but Loki was looking at the bathroom corner. “You are...gracious.” He still sounded wary, like he was expecting Steve to flip on him the moment he said it.

“Just common decency,” Steve said. Loki made a strained sound that was probably intended to be a laugh.

“I daresay you overestimate common decency.” He did look up at Steve, then. “I think perhaps I believe you. That you did not know what was done to me. Even that you might not have allowed it if you had.”

_Perhaps. Might not._ It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but Steve was surprised by how much it pleased him. He caught himself smiling. “Good,” he said after a beat. “That’s...good, I’m glad. And it’s true. Not only would I not allow it, I would’ve stopped it a long time ago.”

There was a flicker of Loki’s expression that Steve thought might read as _easy for you to say now._ It was gone quickly, though, and if Loki didn’t smile he didn’t pull further away, either. Steve hesitated.

“Want to come back out?” He asked carefully, and held out a hand. He didn’t really expect Loki to take it, figuring maybe the gesture was as important as anything. To his surprise, Loki did take it. By the way he glanced at Steve when he was on his feet, Steve thought it’d been another test, but fortunately he seemed to have passed.

Steve was still careful not to touch Loki while he opened the door, and he went out first, trying to keep his pace even as he went out to the kitchen, half worried that something awful might have happened while he was busy with Loki. All seemed well there, though, and when Loki followed a moment after Steve, no one commented on his abrupt departure. “Sit down,” Sam informed them both. “You can wash dishes.”

One step - or at least a half step - forward with Loki, Steve thought wryly. And a step back with Bucky.

Or maybe it was at least a good thing that he’d _talked_ to Steve, sort of, about his worries. It’d let Steve start addressing them, hopefully - proving to Bucky that he _was_ his own person.

It could be a start, at least.

* * *

Things settled into a sort of awkward, uncertain routine. It seemed like an improvement - _marginal,_ but still improvement. Every other morning, Steve got Bucky to join him for a run, and even if there wasn’t much conversation involved, it still felt like a good thing. Sam coaxed Loki into cooking with him when he made dinner.

The first time Bucky was served something Loki’d had a hand in, he stared at it suspiciously without touching it until Loki grabbed the bowl, took an annoyed bite of soup, and shoved it back without saying a word. Oddly enough, Bucky had seemed amused.

And Steve went through listings and bookmarked places that seemed promising, though he wasn’t exactly sure how viewings would work. Probably he or Sam would just have to go on their own and hope their judgment was good enough - he doubted bringing Bucky or Loki along would be a good idea.

Regarding Loki...it was odd, Steve realized, how quickly he’d gotten used to thinking of him not so much as a threat. A responsibility, sure, and he wasn’t about to forget how quickly Loki could - and had - turned violent, but...maybe it was just habituation. It was hard to be quite as intimidated by someone when you’d seen them with their hair rumpled on one side fresh out of bed.

Or, Steve supposed, amusement fading, when you’d seen them wasted down to nothing and catatonic. He still felt vaguely like maybe he should try to talk more to Loki about what HYDRA had been doing, but he was worried what he might set off.

As it turned out, he shouldn’t have been worried about an explosion from within. At least not this time.

It was just the three of them tonight, Sam off getting dinner with his mom. Loki was apparently sleeping and Bucky was sitting and reading – or maybe pretending to read, as Steve hadn’t seen him turn more than a couple pages in the last hour.

He stood up abruptly and Steve was immediately alert. “Everything okay?”

“Not sure,” Bucky said. He took a half step toward the windows, then stopped. “Something seems…” He trailed off, and Steve walked over to stand with him. Bucky shook himself. “I don’t know. It’s nothing.”

“No,” Loki said, and Bucky whirled around like he’d attacked rather than just spoken. Steve turned too, ready to put himself between them, but Loki was just sitting up. For once, his eyes focused on Bucky were not overtly hostile. “What did you feel?”

Bucky’s jaw shifted. “Why are you asking me?”

Loki’s expression spasmed. “Because at least at the moment I trust your instincts more than my own. On some matters.”

He and Bucky just looked at each other for a long moment, and Steve was ready to say something when Bucky twitched one shoulder and looked away first. “I’ve got nothing. Sorry to disappoint.”

“That _is_ a pity,” Loki said, faintly snide. Bucky went rigid.

“Hey,” Steve started to say scoldingly, but then something crashed through the glass in the kitchen.

The flash grenade went off, blinding Steve momentarily. He knocked Bucky back, away from the windows, just before they broke through the balcony door as well. Steve blinked the spots frantically out of his eyes.

There were four men crowded on the balcony, two others coming from the kitchen. “Capture the asset alive,” one of them shouted. “Kill the others.”

Steve dropped just in time, but a bullet still winged him in the arm. He heard Bucky growl, grabbing Steve and half throwing him out of the way. Loki was pressed back into the couch, his expression a mask of fear.

“ _Soldat!_ ” The one who had spoken before shouted, and Bucky froze like a statue, his eyes going wide.

Steve lunged to fling himself in front of him, but Loki...uncoiled, terror condensing into rage. Green wreathed his hands and lashed out in ribbons that cut through flesh like paper. Two others went up in green flames.

It was over in seconds. Three dead HYDRA agents stared at the ceiling, one of them nearly decapitated. Of the two that had burned, nothing was left but a small pile of greasy ash.

Steve wavered, feeling a little sick. Loki swayed, breathing hard. His eyes glazed over and he folded in a limp heap.

Wavering between Loki and Bucky, Steve turned to Bucky first, who looked like he was still gone somewhere else. “Buck,” he said lowly, “Buck, it’s fine, you’re safe.”

His eyes focused slowly, moved past Steve to the dead agents and flinched away. “No I’m not,” he said, voice a little vague. His inhale shuddered, and he looked like he might fall over too.

“Sit down,” Steve said quickly, guiding Bucky over to the couch, putting his back carefully to the corpses. “Head between your knees, I need to-”

“I couldn’t move,” Bucky mumbled, apparently not really hearing. “They still own me.”

“You froze up,” Steve said. “That’s all, it doesn’t mean...anything.” He glanced over toward Loki, who was lying as still as the HYDRA agents he’d killed. Bucky’s eyes followed his.

“He did that,” he said. Awkward, uncertain. Steve swallowed hard and squeezed Bucky’s knee.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Just - breathe.”

He pulled away reluctantly and went over to Loki. He was still alive, or at least still breathing, though he was ash pale and his skin was clammy. Steve registered, slowly, that Loki had just used magic, and in a way Steve didn’t remember seeing during the invasion. _Powerful_ magic, and dangerous, and if it had clearly taken a toll…

That was still a wrinkle that he’d been putting off dealing with. Though Steve couldn’t work up as much disgust as maybe he should have about the brutality of what Loki had done.

“Loki,” Steve tried, but didn’t get so much as a flicker of his eyelids.

Behind him, he heard the door burst open and jerked to his feet, whirling around in preparation to attack - but it wasn’t more HYDRA. Just Sharon Carter, still in her pajamas but holding a gun, her eyes flicking from the corpses on the floor to Steve to Bucky on the couch, who, thank _God,_ was apparently still too out of it to attack.

And Loki was mostly out of sight.

_For fuck’s sake,_ Steve thought.

“Steve,” Sharon said. Her voice was admirably level, though she still didn’t lower the gun. “I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume there’s a completely logical explanation for this.”

“I guess that depends on your definition of logical,” Sam’s voice said from the hallway behind her, pushing past and stepping inside. He scanned the apartment and whistled. “Jesus. Glad to see you didn’t end up needing me.”

Steve wondered if he ought to say _actually Loki managed pretty much on his own_ or hope that he could escape without telling Sharon about _that._

“So I guess we’re _really_ overdue for that move now, huh?” Sam coughed. “You’d better sit down, Sharon. I’m guessing you’re going to be here a bit.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this chapter mostly because I kept running into a wall of "this is too self indulgent!" which is patently absurd given that this whole fic is an exercise in me being self-indulgent. So screw that, I went with it. Things are moving right along, we're still firmly in "everyone is still barely coping with everything" mode. It's fun. For me, mostly, and hopefully for you.
> 
> Thanks ever to Amelia for her beta-ing work, and Lena for encouraging said self-indulgence, and all of you for leaving awesome comments. As usually, find me on my [Tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com) for more rambling, fic excerpts, and more than you ever needed to know about my life.

He came around slowly, with a dull, pounding headache, an unsettled stomach, and the murmur of voices somewhere nearby. For a disorienting moment memory lagged behind consciousness and Loki wavered between locations and times before things settled into place and became clear, more or less.

An attack. He’d lashed out – he couldn’t remember exactly what with – and strained abilities atrophied from disuse. He couldn’t remember if he’d killed all of them. Even if he had, others might have come while he was…disabled. He could almost see it: the Captain dead, the other dead or taken. _Take the asset,_ he remembered someone saying, but he didn’t know if that meant him or the soldier.

The soldier who had frozen at one word from his masters. Loki did not feel much pleasure at being proven right.

He kept his breathing shallow and his eyes closed, trying to think through the sickness of overexertion, and only realized slowly that he wasn’t restrained. He opened his eyes, surprised, and had to close them immediately as knives made of light stabbed into his brain. His thoughts tripped, stumbling over each other-

_(Lights in his eyes, blocks wedged between his teeth holding his jaw wide open, shaking with rage and pain-)_

“He’s awake,” said the soldier’s voice. There was a faint rasp to it, like he’d been screaming, or wanted to. Loki’s heart pounded and his head spun, leaving his eyes closed, but he had a feeling it was too late. He’d already been noticed.

* * *

“Let me get this straight,” Sharon said. “You were looking for Barnes, who’s the same as HYDRA’s Winter Soldier.” Steve saw Bucky twitch out of the corner of his eye and stiffened.

“I was,” he said. “They brainwashed him. He needed my help.” He didn’t love talking about Bucky like he wasn’t in the room, but Bucky hadn’t said a word in the last ten minutes. Sharon’s expression didn’t change.

“And while you were doing that, you found an abandoned HYDRA base with Loki, the alien of New York invasion fame. And you decided the thing to do was to take him home with you.”

Steve set his jaw. “There weren’t a whole lot of options. HYDRA buried him alive down there, and what they were doing…it’s not like I could give him back to _SHIELD._ ” Even if, Steve thought privately, he would’ve been willing to.

Well, he realized with a pang, he might have, then. But now he was less sure that would’ve really been much better.

“And then Barnes came and found _you_ and moved in, and following _him_ some other people, probably HYDRA, but who knows since they’re all dead and not exactly wearing name tags. And you’ve had Wilson collaborating this whole time.”

“Don’t say ‘collaborating’ like that,” Sam said. “I’d just say ‘helping.’” Sharon crossed her arms and Steve gave Sam a plaintive look. He shrugged. “She’s not wrong. That’s exactly what happened.”

Steve inhaled and looked at Bucky, who was still staring at the floor like it might bite him. Loki still hadn’t moved, either, though Steve had, with only a little embarrassment, put a pillow under his head. He wasn’t exactly sure what else he was supposed to do when he didn’t know why Loki had passed out in the first place.

“Yeah,” he said finally, “that’s what happened. Put briefly.” He only just kept himself from asking _so what are you going to do about it?_

Sharon just looked at him for several long moments. “So that screaming I heard,” she said. “That was…”

“Loki,” Steve said, after a brief pause. “Like I said, he was with HYDRA for maybe two full years.” Sharon’s expression was hard to read. She looked at him for a moment longer, and then looked at Sam.

“And what do you think of all this?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mostly agree with Steve.”

“I think he’s awake,” Bucky said abruptly, and Steve looked at him in surprise. Bucky jerked his head vaguely in Loki’s direction and Steve looked. Loki’s eyes were still closed, but a little too tightly to be truly unconscious. He looked at Sharon, who had gone rigid, and hesitated, glancing at Sam. Sam raised his eyebrows and Steve held back a grimace, kneeling down.

“Loki?” He said carefully, acutely aware of Sharon’s eyes on him. If Loki panicked, or she panicked and shot Loki…Steve thought nauseously of the piles of ash in the kitchen. “It’s me. Steve.” Loki didn’t react, though Steve thought his breathing got slightly shallower. “You’re safe.”

If Loki exploded, Steve thought miserably, and Sharon went off, then Bucky would too, and there went all chances of getting the situation under control. God _dammit._

Loki twitched, and then raised one hand slowly and put it over his eyes. “Bright,” he said, his voice blurry, and Steve almost went limp with relief. It wasn’t much of a response, but it was a response, and not a violent one. He stood up and turned back toward Sharon, who didn’t seem to share his relief.

“I hope you know how insane this is,” she said. “I’ll grant you that SHIELD isn’t an option, but they’re not the only game in town.”

Steve stiffened. “What are you suggesting? The CIA? What do you think they’d do, even if they _were_ equipped to handle Loki, which they aren’t.”

“And you are?”

Bucky stood up abruptly. Sharon jerked toward her gun and visibly stopped the motion, but Bucky didn’t seem to notice, walking over to the kitchen, stepping over the corpses in the way. He pulled down a glass and filled it from the sink, came back to the living room and set it down next to where Loki had pushed his way up to sitting. Then he went back to the couch and sat back down.

“What,” he said flatly.

Sharon seemed to shake herself. “You can’t stay here.”

“We were working on that, actually, before the uninvited guests showed up,” Sam said. “Kind of noticed that it wasn’t working out.”

“Where were you going to go?” Sharon asked.

“Who is she,” Loki said. Steve glanced at him. He’d sat up, sort of, and his eyes were open, though he was squinting like he had a migraine. Somehow even if it looked like he was barely staying upright, he was still tense enough to vibrate.

“Sharon Carter,” she said, and Steve was relieved that she didn’t add anything about SHIELD. Loki’s eyes flicked to Steve and then Sam, wary and like he was looking for confirmation.

“She’s a friend,” Steve said, even if he wasn’t sure how true that was going to turn out to be. Loki didn’t seem convinced either.

Bucky shifted. “So what are you going to do?” He asked. Steve gave him a startled look. He’d half thought he wasn’t paying attention.

“At the very least,” she said after a moment, “I’m going to get you out of this apartment building. For the sake of the civilians if nothing else.” Steve was pretty sure he didn’t imagine the rebuke there, and kept himself from wincing, knowing she wasn’t wrong. “I know a safe house you can use, at least for now.”

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “How safe is it still?”

“It wasn’t one of SHIELD’s, if that’s what you’re asking,” Sharon said. Steve turned to Loki even as he stiffened and started trying to claw himself up, eyes going wild.

“It’s okay,” he said quickly. “She’s not – it’s fine, she’s not here for you.”

Loki made a sound at the back of his throat like a growl. “How do you know you can trust her? She came with _them._ ”

Bucky tensed, leaning forward. Steve could feel the situation slipping out of his control. “After,” he said quickly. “ _After_ them, she heard what was happening and…”

“Convenient,” Bucky said lowly. Sharon’s jaw clenched, but Sam spoke up first.

“Look at it this way,” he said, “if she starts throwing the HYDRA salute, we outnumber her four to one. Which, considering how you handled the _last_ odds, doesn’t seem like a problem. But for now, let’s just assume that, like Steve said, she’s a friend.” Neither Bucky nor Loki relaxed, but Sam turned pointedly to Sharon. “So who _does_ the house belong to?”

Sharon glanced at Steve before she said, “me. Well, the family. But no one else uses it.” She inhaled slowly and then let it out. “We’re going to have to do something about this place, first. Clean it up somehow. I can take care of that, come up with a cover story, but you’ll need to be gone before then.” She looked around. “How much of this stuff are you attached to?”

Steve blinked. “So it’s _we_ now?” Sam said.

“Looks like,” Sharon said. “I’m not turning you in, so I might as well help.”

“That simple, huh?” Sam said. She gave him a flat look.

“You keep that up and maybe I’ll change my mind.” She jerked her chin at the bodies. “Those are going to be a problem. Explaining an attack on Captain America’s apartment is one thing, but the cause of death…what _did_ happen?”

“He did,” Bucky said, indicating Loki, who hunched his shoulders but didn’t deny it.

Sharon’s eyebrows crawled halfway up her forehead, but all she said was, “and I don’t suppose you can get rid of the bodies somehow?”

Loki’s eyes flicked toward Steve again and he licked his lips. “It is not that simple.”

“Right,” Sharon said, “of course it isn’t.” She exhaled slowly. “Priority is probably to get those two out of here,” she said, indicating Bucky and Loki. “Just in case anyone is coming back for round two. Does either of you have a car?”

“I do.” Sam straightened and looked between Bucky and Loki. “Can you stand on your own?” He asked the latter. Loki’s expression tightened and Steve decided to take that as answer.

“Where’s your car?” He asked. “I’ll help him get down there. Buck…”

“I’ll wait here,” he said, eyes on Sharon like chips of stone.

Steve knelt back down next to Loki, who looked like he wanted to flinch back but accepted Steve’s help to his feet. Steve tried to support him while offering as little contact as possible, which wasn’t an easy task, and if he was aware of Sharon watching he could only imagine how much more Loki was. He could hear him breathing, sharp and a little strained.

Steve waited until the door closed behind them to ask, “are you all right?” Loki let out a sound like the beginning of a hysterical laugh. Steve forced a smile. “Stupid question, I guess. I just meant…you were unconscious for a while.”

“I haven’t used magic in two years,” Loki said. His voice sounded unsteady, and by how much he was leaning on Steve he guessed he guessed he was only maybe half present. “Just a…just a bit of a strain.” Loki started shaking minutely.

“It’s okay,” Steve said awkwardly. “Stay with me.”

“There’s nowhere to run,” Loki said faintly. “Nowhere to go. This has all been – a trick, a trap.” Loki’s breathing quickened, shortened, and Steve tensed.

“That’s not true. You need to stay calm.”

Loki stopped dead abruptly and grabbed hold of Steve’s arm, hard. His eyes were wide. “I’ll die before I go back,” he said. “I won’t – promise me. _Promise me_ if that’s the choice and I cannot do it, you will.”

Steve would have recoiled, but Loki was holding on too tightly to let him. “What? No!”

“ _Please._ ” Loki’s grip tightened further. Steve’s stomach turned at the tone of his voice.

“Let go,” he said roughly. “You’re hurting me.” Loki let go, flinching back, catching himself on the railing of the stairs. Steve took a deep breath and tried to moderate his voice. “I’m not going to kill you. I’m not going to let them take you back, either. All right?”

Loki looked away, slumping, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t say anything, really, and Steve glanced nervously around them and said, “let’s keep going.” He waited for Loki to jerk his head in a nod before helping him again.

It seemed to take an eternity to get to the car and get Loki into it, and Steve kept thinking nervously of Bucky and Sam and Sharon alone in a room, not sure who to be most worried about. He judged that Loki wasn’t going to go anywhere in a hurry and told him that he’d be back shortly.

He took the stairs back up in a hurry, and heaved a sigh of relief to see everyone still in the apartment and in one piece, more or less. Bucky looked a little more focused than he had, though still a little wild around the eyes. Steve thought he might be fighting for that much control, and just hoped it wouldn’t cost him later.

“Sharon,” he said belatedly. “I…thank you. I owe you. Big time.”

“Yeah, you do,” she said, which made Steve’s stomach clench nervously, but a moment later she added, “You’re lucky you’re catching me in a good mood,” with a very faint smile.

Steve turned back to Bucky. “Buck…” He hunted for a way to say _do you need help_ without actually saying the words. 

Sam swooped in. “Let’s go,” Sam said. “I’m driving. Just keep your hands off the steering wheel, all right?” 

Bucky twitched, his eyes sliding sideways toward Steve before jerking back to Sam. “No promises,” he said after a moment, and got up. Steve moved to follow after them.

Sharon caught Steve’s arm. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Sam and Bucky stopped, Bucky tensing as he turned like he was about to pounce. “Privately,” she added, with admirable poise given the look on Bucky’s face.

“It’s fine,” Steve said. “I’ll be right there.” They left, though Bucky was still looking over his shoulder when the door closed. Steve looked back at Sharon. “What is this about?” He asked, trying not to sound as wary as he felt.

“I’m just wondering,” she said, “what you think happens long term, here. What’s your plan?”

Steve wanted to laugh, a little hysterically. _I’m pretty sure if I had a plan it would just get shot all to hell, so I haven’t really tried making one. Right now I’m just trying to make it through every day without things blowing up in my face._ “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you planning to do in the long run? Are you thinking you’ll reintroduce Barnes to society at some point? Tell everyone that he’s alive? When, and how? And what about Loki? Are you just going to keep him around and hope that he doesn’t turn on you?”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “Thor will come back at some point,” he said. “I kind of figured…”

“But you don’t know when,” Sharon interrupted. “And you don’t know how long you’re going to be able to keep control of Loki on your own. It’s worked so far, but if it _stops_ working? Those HYDRA agents in your apartment could tell you what it’d feel like to be at ground zero of that.”

Steve’s jaw worked. “What’s your point?” He said. “I know it’s dangerous. But there isn’t an alternative. And I don’t know that…” he hesitated and then said quietly, “Whatever HYDRA did to him, I don’t know that he’s going to just…bounce back to being what he was.”

Sharon didn’t look convinced. “And what about Barnes?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m taking it a day at a time. It depends on him. What he wants. I’m not going to – I’m not his _owner._ I’m helping him, and once Bucky’s ready it’s up to him to decide what he wants to do. And then…then I’ll go from there.”

Sharon just stared at him for a long moment, then looked down, shaking her head. “You sure are something,” she said.

“That doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment.” He set his jaw. “What do _you_ think I should do, then? You don’t think I should give them over to the government, do you?” Sharon was quiet for a long moment, and Steve gave her an incredulous look. “Really?”

“No,” she said eventually. “Probably not. Just…you really get into situations, don’t you?”

Steve smiled weakly. “It’s a talent.”

* * *

Sharon said she’d come by later, once she had things settled at the apartment. Steve would have liked to put Loki in the front and him and Bucky in the back, but Loki was pretty far out of it by the time they were leaving, and after some consideration he ended up taking the back seat with Loki with Bucky in shotgun and hoping it would be fine. At least from here he could see both of them. 

The directions Sharon gave them took them out of downtown and into a more residential neighborhood. Not a particularly nice one, but not particularly bad either. Steve held his breath, half expecting to be stopped, but they pulled up into the driveway (a _driveway_ ) without incident. 

“Loki,” Steve said, keeping his voice quiet and (he hoped) soothing. He still came awake with a snarl, his head whipping around to stare blankly at Steve. Bucky tensed like he was going to go for Loki and Steve held up a hand quickly to forestall him.

The feral gleam ebbed, and Loki turned to look out the window instead. Bucky was staring at the house, too. 

“How sure are you about this,” he said.

“Sharon’s a good woman,” Steve said, careful not to say _a good agent._ “I trust her.” He might not know her well, but she’d fought HYDRA. That meant more than a little, and his instincts said she was safe. 

“Let’s go inside,” Sam said. “Here-” He pulled off his coat and passed it to Bucky. “Put that on. Go quick but not like you’re sneaking-”

“I know what I’m doing,” Bucky said, his voice hard and flat. He put the jacket on, movements jerky, and got out of the car. Sam glanced at Steve, who looked at Loki. 

“Can you...on your own?” He asked awkwardly. Loki’s jaw tightened and then relaxed. 

“Probably not,” he said, voice cold.

“I’ve got him,” Sam said. “You go inside.” Steve would’ve expected some protest from Loki, but he seemed distracted, looking out the window again. Steve realized with a lurch that besides his abortive escape attempt and the view from Steve’s balcony, this was probably the most Loki had seen of the outside world in two years - and he probably hadn’t absorbed much of it when he was panicking. 

Steve shook himself. “All right,” he said. “See you there.” He’d just have to trust Sam could manage Loki on his own. Besides, he didn’t like leaving Bucky alone, not when he had to be scared. 

Of course, the front door was locked, so Bucky was just standing by it with his head down and his hands in his pockets. Steve unlocked it, aware of Bucky looking at him but not acknowledging it just yet. “I’ll go in first,” he said. Bucky grunted something that might have been agreement. 

The house was unremarkable. There was a staircase going up on the right of the hallway, and a living room on the left. Steve went over and drew the curtains, then went back and checked the kitchen. There was one bedroom near the back of the house; Steve wondered if there were others on the second floor. He returned to the doorway, where Bucky was waiting, his eyes on the stairs. 

“First floor’s fine,” Steve said gently. “If you want to sit down…”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to him, flinty. “I’m fine,” he said, and went up the stairs. Steve glanced at the front door briefly and then followed him up. 

It looked like there were two other rooms that could be used as bedrooms - one with a couch and a TV, the other maybe a guest room. Steve found Bucky in the latter, standing by a window that looked out on the house next door. His shoulders were locked tight up by his ears. 

“You’re safe now,” Steve said quietly. 

“Don’t,” Bucky said, his voice hard. Steve jerked, and Bucky added, “don’t _do_ that. Talk to me like I’m some kind of feral dog. I’m not.”

“I’m not - I know you’re not,” Steve said quickly. Bucky turned toward him. 

“Actually, maybe you should.” His voice seemed, somehow, to have gotten even harder. “You saw what happened. They said my name and I froze. What if they’d ordered me to do something? To kill you?”

 _They said my name._ Steve didn’t understand at first, but then he remembered one of them shouting _soldat,_ soldier, and felt cold. _That’s not your name,_ he wanted to say, but he didn’t think that was the point right now. 

“Like I said,” Steve said, “it doesn’t mean _anything._ We were under attack and you - panicked. That’s perfectly understandable. It doesn’t mean they have any, any _control_ over you.” 

“You don’t know that,” Bucky said, something ugly in his voice. “You just want to believe it. Are the other two inside yet?” 

Steve wanted to push. He wanted to grab Bucky and shake him, tell him that he needed to trust himself, needed to have just a little bit of faith, but he knew it wouldn’t do a damn lick of good. Wouldn’t change anything. 

“Probably,” he said dully. “Downstairs. I’ll go check.” 

“I’m coming with you.”

Steve gave Bucky a weary look. “You don’t need to. I’m pretty sure Loki’s not a threat right now.”

Bucky twitched one shoulder. “That’s not why.”

 _Then what is it?_ Steve wanted to say, but he knew his frustration would be audible. He held it back and went back down the stairs. Sam and Loki were indeed inside, and at first Steve thought Loki had gone back to sleep. Then his eyes opened to a blurry sliver, looking almost drugged. 

“Something’s wrong,” Sam said, coming back from where he’d apparently been doing the same sweep Steve had done. “Obviously.” He gestured at Loki, who roused slightly with visible effort. 

“It’s fine,” he said, profoundly unconvincingly. His head dropped back down, though his eyes remained open, if out of focus. 

“Is he sick?” Bucky asked. Steve glanced at him, but Bucky was frowning past him at Loki. 

“He said something about...using magic after not for a while causing some strain,” Steve offered. Sam raised his eyebrows and Steve spread his hands. “That’s all I know.” 

Loki murmured something unintelligible under his breath. “Sorry, what was that?” Sam said, but Loki didn’t answer except to curl up and shiver. 

“Should we do something?” Steve asked.

“Magic sickness is a little out of my depth,” Sam said. “Just keep an eye on him, I guess.” 

“I guess,” Steve said. He glanced at Bucky again, who was still frowning in Loki’s direction, his eyebrows pulled together. 

* * *

Bucky wouldn’t sit down. He paced back and forth across the living room, through the kitchen to the back door, and back out to the front, checking the windows again and again. “Anyone for a game of cards,” Sam asked, his voice dry. Steve accepted, at least for something to do while they waited, and they sat down at the kitchen table. 

“You trust Carter,” Sam said eventually, while they dealt. His voice was low, but Steve couldn’t help glancing toward the living room where Bucky was staring at the drawn curtains. 

Steve jerked his head to the side. “I trust her enough.” Sam raised his eyebrows, and Steve grimaced. “She doesn’t necessarily like it, but she said she won’t say anything and I believe her. But I think you’re right. We need to get out of the city.” 

Sam nodded. “The sooner the better.”

“Agreed.” Bucky came back into the kitchen and looked back and forth between them, and then at their cards. 

“Really,” he said, almost a growl. 

“What,” Sam said, “you think we should be wearing a hole in the floor like you?” Steve winced, but though Bucky scowled he didn’t immediately storm off. “Sit down. Breathe a little. If I’ve learned anything from running around with this guy-” He jerked a thumb at Steve- “it’s the importance of resting between crises.”

Bucky stared at them a moment longer, then walked away. Steve sighed. 

“Was he always this chatty?” Sam asked dryly. Steve pressed his fingers to his temples. 

“Sam…”

“I know, I know.” Bucky came abruptly back into the kitchen, and Sam looked up at him. “Changed your mind already?” 

“Your…” Bucky jerked his head toward the living room. “He doesn’t look good.” 

“Our what?” Sam asked, but he set his cards down and stood up. Bucky looked at Steve and Steve looked back at him, a little surprised that Bucky had said anything - and guilty that he was surprised. After a moment, he stood up and followed Sam. 

Loki didn’t look good. Looked well and truly sick, his face stark white except the unnatural flush across his cheekbones. His breathing was audibly strained and even though Sam was saying his name he wasn’t responding. “Sam?” Steve asked. He shook his head. 

“I don’t know. I’d say infection except the progression would be too fast and he’s not actually hurt, at least not physically that I can tell. I don’t suppose the Carters would have any god-strength fever reducers, would they?” Sam grimaced. “I don’t know. Wait it out? If the fever gets worse we might have to try drastic measures, but at least for the moment…”

Loki stirred slightly and his eyes opened to blurry slivers. His gaze moved over Sam and fixed on Steve, and widened. 

“Thor?” He said, voice a little breathless. “You came. I thought…please, help me.” 

Steve’s stomach lurched and for a moment he thought he would be sick. He took a step back, throat closing on his protest, but Loki had already faded out again. Steve’s thoughts flashed to a lab, a table, Bucky barely conscious.

“Who’s Thor,” Bucky asked, and while his voice was flat Steve didn’t think he imagined the unease under the surface. 

“His brother,” Sam said, gesturing at Loki. “Jesus. Steve, if he starts having flashbacks…”

“Is he dead?” Bucky interrupted. Steve thought at first he was talking about Loki and gave him an alarmed look, then realized. 

“Oh - Thor? No. He’s...back where they came from.” Defensively, he felt the need to add, “I don’t think he knew about...this.” 

“Didn’t check, either, I guess,” Bucky said coldly, and Steve’s stomach clenched again, wondering if Bucky was really talking about Thor, or if he meant it for Steve. If he’d looked harder, somehow, really tried…

He pushed that away. “I can stay up. Keep an eye on him in case...in case.” 

“Works for me,” Sam said. “Some of us need sleep.” 

Steve looked at Bucky, who shifted his weight slightly and looked over Steve’s shoulder. Sam glanced back and forth between them and then raised his hands. “I’ll let you figure that out.” He took the stairs up. Steve hoped he took the room with the bed. 

“What is it?” He asked Bucky, once Sam was out of sight. Bucky didn’t exactly shrug, but one of his shoulders twitched like he wanted to. 

“Nothing.” Steve waited, and Bucky twitched again and said, “you should sleep.” 

Steve dredged up a smile. “I’ll be fine.” Bucky just looked at him, and Steve added, “someone has to keep an eye on Loki.”

“I can.” 

That brought Steve’s head around sharply. He stared at Bucky, utterly taken off guard and not sure what to do with that offer. “Um-”

Bucky made a noise that was maybe supposed to be a laugh. “Not like I’m going to sleep anyway.”

That just made Steve wince. “I don’t want to risk you getting hurt.”

“Or me hurting him?” Bucky’s voice held just a trace of irony. Steve shook his head, though the thought had crossed his mind, quick and guilty. He hesitated, and Bucky snorted and jerked his head to the side. “Comes down to the same thing, doesn’t it? You don’t trust me.” 

Steve could feel the ground shifting under his feet. “Of course I do,” he said quickly. “I’ve told you-”

“But you don’t trust me to be able to protect myself,” Bucky said, staring directly at Steve. The expression on his face - there was something ugly in it, making Steve tense. “And you don’t trust me not to murder someone if I’m not being watched.” He smiled, sharp and humorless. “That’s fine. Just good to know.” 

Steve squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them. He didn’t know what the right thing was to do here. He hadn’t _ever_ known, not with Loki and not with Bucky. “Why?” He asked. He thought Bucky was going to say _why what_ but then he looked away, frowning. 

“I don’t like being useless. And I’m not stupid. If he hadn’t done...whatever he did, I’d either be dead or something worse right now. And don’t say you’re not exhausted. I’m not blind.” 

Steve hesitated, but...the bedroom was just down the hall, and if he left the door open, if Bucky was certain this was something he wanted to do, if he needed proof that Steve _did_ trust him…

“All right,” he said. “That’s...thanks. Wake me up if anything happens, or if you get tired, or...anything.” Bucky jerked his head in a short nod, and Steve glanced at Loki, who hadn’t stirred again. It felt like there was something else he _should_ say, but he couldn’t think what it would be. 

So he retreated back into the bedroom, where he stood by the open door listening for a few minutes and heard nothing. Eventually, he laid down on top of the covers, fairly certain he wouldn’t sleep a wink. 

He woke up with a gasp to Bucky shaking him. His face was in shadow but Steve could hear the tension in his voice as he said, “I think you should get up. He’s worse.” 

It took Steve a dazed moment to understand, and then he sat up, eyes widening. “Did something happen?” He asked, before he realized that if something had, he almost certainly would have heard something. Or maybe not, considering how fast he’d crashed. 

Bucky jerked his head to the side. “Other than a lot of talking in his sleep? He didn’t attack me, or anything.” 

Steve got up and hurried out to the living room. He could hear what Bucky meant immediately: there was a strained, harsh edge to Loki’s breathing, a faint whine on every exhale, and his skin had gone from white to greyish. He reached out to feel for fever, hesitated, then grimaced and did it anyway. Loki didn’t so much as twitch, and sure enough, he was burning up. 

_Dammit._ He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. Sam might know better, but neither of them really did. He should’ve asked Loki what to do, but then he didn’t know when he could’ve done that. By the time they’d realized something was really wrong, he hadn’t been very coherent.

And Sam...Sam couldn’t do everything. And shouldn’t have to. It wasn’t like Steve didn’t know anything about fevers. 

“Okay,” Steve said, under his breath, and of course that was about when Loki started seizing.

“Fuck,” said Bucky before Steve could, though he definitely felt it. He turned Loki on his side, thinking fast. 

“I’m going to go run a lukewarm bath,” he said. “At least - at least maybe it’ll help temporarily, bring his temperature down a little. You watch him, make sure he doesn’t choke.” He winced, realizing that had sounded like an order and expecting Bucky to snarl at him, but he didn’t. Steve hurried to the bathroom, realizing belatedly there might not _be_ a bath, and was relieved to find one. He ran the water, careful not to run it too cold, and hurried back. Loki had stopped seizing, but he didn’t look good, that strange tint to his skin grown more intense. 

Bucky looked uncertain and a little unsteady. He didn’t follow Steve when he picked Loki up and took him back to the bathroom, and Steve wanted to pause and say _something_ but he was starting to get genuinely worried that Loki might _die._ After all this, he couldn’t let that happen. 

It was awkward, but Steve managed to lower Loki into the water, not bothering to deal with his clothes. He could barely hear him breathing. Steve swore under his breath and turned around to look for a cold washcloth for the back of his neck, and heard - something, a rattling sort of sigh that sounded terribly final. 

Steve whirled around and his eyes widened.

A thin coat of ice was crawling over the surface of the water from where Loki’s body touched it, and Loki - changed. He was - blue. _Really_ blue, like the sky, faint ridges rising on his visible skin. Steve stared, taken completely off guard, wondering if this was normal or something alarming.

Then he noticed that Loki seemed to have relaxed, and his breathing sounded a little easier. He reached out to test his skin and jerked back when he felt how cold the air around Loki was. 

“What the fuck happened,” Bucky said from the doorway, a loud and brassy edge to his voice. 

Steve sat back, still staring. “I have no idea.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter in which basically no one is having a good time. 
> 
> Also I can't believe that this is another chapter _already_ because I don't think I've ever managed to pull that off before. (Maybe I'm wrong. But still, it's exciting.) 
> 
> Not a whole lot to say here, except to thank [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) for the beta, and all of you for your wonderful comments and enthusiasm about this (weird, startlingly fun) fic. Have fun. Hopefully more than everyone in this fic.

He was dreaming. Loki knew he was dreaming: it was too pleasant to be anything else. He was lying in bed on Asgard, and in the dream he knew he’d been sick but he was better now, the feeling already fading. The door opened and Frigga poked her head inside. 

“Loki, love?” 

“I’m awake,” he said, rolling over but unwilling to crawl out of the snarl of blankets just yet. His nest, Frigga had always called it. “I feel much better.” 

“That’s good,” she said, and came over, laying a hand on his forehead. “You had us worried.” She pushed his hair back from his forehead. “But now that that’s over with…”

The temperature plummeted. Next to Frigga stood a woman wearing a mask over the lower half of her face. “Interesting,” she said. “I want to see it again.” 

Loki gasped and inhaled something that seared his throat. The blankets turned to manacles holding him down and he could feel hands, touching, probing, and Frigga looking down at him, her hand still resting on his forehead. 

“This is for your own good,” she said, and Loki would have screamed but his lungs were full of fire.

He jerked awake screaming, something holding him down, restraining him. He thrashed, wildly, helplessly, knowing it was useless but he had to try, again and again-

“Whoa, hey, _hey!_ Calm down and I can get you untangled.”

He fell still almost by reflex, hearing _calm_ and thinking of the venom that left him limp and sick for hours. A moment after he recognized the voice, and then the feeling of blankets wrapped around his body. Blankets again not chains. His clothes felt damp. Loki couldn’t remember why. 

His eyes focused slowly on Sam’s face, the strained smile he offered. “You back?”

“Yes,” Loki said, though the thought that came to mind was _yes, I’m back there, I never left._ His voice came out raspy and his mouth felt dry. 

“You were sick,” Sam said. “Do you remember?”

“No,” Loki said, after a moment. 

“Okay,” Sam said after a moment. “What _do_ you remember?” 

_Too much,_ Loki thought. He hadn’t thought of Frigga in a long time. Memories of her had been the first to fade. By the end, that life had been nothing but a dream, and a vague one. He didn’t think he wanted it back. 

But that wasn’t the answer Sam sought. “There was an attack,” he said. “And a woman. Sharon Carter. From SHIELD.” He could not quite keep the snarl out of his voice. He had vague memories of the Captain half dragging him down the stairs. Of grabbing hold of him, begging...begging for something. 

“You said it was some kind of...magic thing. Strain.” Sam sounded less certain. “Does that make sense?” 

He did remember that. Remembered recognizing the symptoms. He hadn’t thought it was that bad, though. How badly had his abilities atrophied, suppressed for all that time? Was he going to be so crippled forever? “It makes sense.”

“You seem better. Are you, or is there a possibility of relapsing?” 

“Unlikely,” Loki said. He closed his eyes. “The Captain and his...soldier. Where are they?”

“In the backyard,” Sam said. “Why?”

Loki didn’t answer. It seemed it should be obvious.

* * *

Steve was standing outside and watching Bucky, who’d been staring at a songbird for a couple minutes straight. He was trying to figure out if he should say something or not when Sam poked his head out. 

“Just letting you know that Loki’s awake and coherent,” he said. “And doesn’t seem to remember the last twenty-four hours.”

Steve nodded, giving him a small smile. “Thanks.” 

Whatever Loki’s...change...had been, it seemed to have marked a turning point. By the time he changed back - eventually - Steve had had plenty of time to stare and try to work out what he was seeing. All he could figure was that either Thor had a second form of his own, or it had something to do with Thor’s comment about Loki being adopted and Loki was from somewhere further afield than the next town over. 

Getting too close to Loki while he was blue started Steve’s skin crawling. The cold got less intense than it had been to start with, but the air near him still felt close to freezing.

He had questions, but now didn’t seem like the best time to ask them, especially if Loki didn’t remember. He _should_ probably go inside, though. Check on him. 

“I’m going in,” he said to Bucky, who didn’t respond. “Bucky?” He said after a pause, and it came out sounding small.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I like it out here.”

 _As long as you stay here,_ Steve almost said, but he held it in. It would just make Bucky angry, and hopefully he knew it already.

He went back inside. Sam was fixing a sandwich. “Sharon called,” he said. “She’s planning on coming by this afternoon.”

Steve nodded slowly, wondering if he ought to try to have Loki and Bucky out of the way while she was here. That would probably just make things worse, he decided. “All right. Did she say when?” 

“No exact times. Guess you’d just better give our two buddies general warning.” 

Steve glanced toward the living room. “Anything I should know?” 

“He woke up screaming but he didn’t attack me,” Sam said, spreading mustard on his bread. “So that’s progress, sort of. Seems to be out of the woods, as far as I can tell.” 

Steve hesitated. “There’s something I should tell you. Later,” he added. By the time Sam had woken up, Loki was back to his normal self, but Sam would definitely need updating. 

“Ominous,” Sam said with raised eyebrows, but he waved off Steve’s awkward grimace. “Go on, Nurse Steve. Check on your patient.”

Steve made more of a face at that, but he went back into the living room. Loki still looked like hell, but less so than he had, and he was sitting up and holding something steaming. His eyes lifted to examine Steve’s face with the wary, guarded expression that seemed to be his default.

“Hey,” Steve said. “You look better.” Loki shrugged one shoulder, and Steve shifted. “You were pretty bad off, seemed like.”

Loki’s eyes flicked away and Steve realized that it wasn’t wariness so much as shame. At showing weakness? Seemed likely. Steve dredged up a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Loki looked back at him with that expression of wary doubt, but after a moment it ebbed away. Steve cleared his throat. “You, um. Need anything?”

“No,” Loki said after a moment. “Thank you.” He paused. “Where…”

“We’re at a safe house,” Steve said. “For the moment. We’ll probably move on before too long, but we needed some place to...recuperate.” He eyed Loki, then asked, carefully, “your magic. Could you...did you have it all along?” 

Loki swallowed. “Yes.”

Steve’s skin crawled a little, and he hesitated before continuing. “And you could’ve used it before?”

“No,” Loki said. Steve frowned, and Loki glanced at him, his expression closed. “I always _have my magic._ It is part of me as surely as your heart and lungs are part of you. That doesn’t mean I could _use_ it. What they-” He stopped abruptly. Steve hesitated, wondering if he ought to press, feeling like he needed to and worried that Loki might explode if he did. Loki went on without prompting, though, his voice tightly controlled. “They...tried. First to pull it out of me, and then to control and contain it. Like an animal in a too-small cage it becomes twisted, bent. Even freed it doesn’t heal overnight. I suspect that is why…” He trailed off. 

Steve felt vaguely nauseated at the mental image Loki’s words conjured. “Oh,” he said, at length. He wanted to ask _so_ will _you get all your magic back and working properly,_ but he had a feeling that would be a dangerous question for multiple reasons. That _they,_ he knew, probably meant SHIELD, and a part of him wondered if they’d known what they were doing, the effect it would have, even as he knew they wouldn’t have had a lot of options. 

“I am not going to attack you,” Loki said, while Steve was still considering what to say. A moment later he added, “at least, not intentionally.”

 _That’s reassuring,_ Steve thought but didn’t say. He rubbed his hands on his legs and glanced over his shoulder, but Loki’s voice brought his head jerking around again. “Your - _friend,_ ” he said. “He responded to his former masters, to their commands-”

Steve interrupted before he could say more. “No,” he said harshly. “He _didn’t._ He froze up, same as _you_ did. He’s not the monster you think he is, and you’re not going to say anything else about it, especially not when _you’re_ throwing stones from a glass house.”

Loki pressed back, looking alarmed, but Steve was _done._ Tired of hearing this same shit from Bucky, from Sharon, from Sam, from _Loki_ of all people, tired of being told that he was stupid and naive for believing in his friend. _Tired._

“You know he was the one keeping an eye on you last night? Who probably saved your life by waking me up when he did? How does that fit with your theory?” 

Loki’s expression had closed off, and Steve’s heart sank, suddenly feeling like he’d done more harm than good. If there was ever any hope of getting Loki and Bucky to coexist, the last thing he needed to do was yell at Loki about it. He sighed. “Look,” he said, and then stopped, because he wasn’t going to apologize, and he didn’t know what else to say. 

“You’ve made yourself clear,” Loki said.

“I don’t think I have,” Steve said. “It’s not about _hierarchy_ or something, it’s about...we’re all on the same side.” More or less. “We have the same enemy. Remember _that._ I know you don’t trust anyone in this house, but at least trust that everyone here hates HYDRA as much as you do.”

“Good talk,” Bucky said, “but are you going to ask about the other thing?”

Steve jerked around and found Bucky standing, his expression impossible to read. Sam joined him a moment later, looking back and forth between them. Loki’s eyes flicked in a quick triangle. 

“Other thing?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, before Steve could say _no, wait,_ though he was pretty sure it was too late for that. By the look on Loki’s face, he could see something coming, and to him it looked like a train bearing down on him. “The part where he changed color.”

Loki changed color again, all right, but this time it was just from all of it leaving his face. His eyes went wide and for a moment he looked like he was going to be sick. His mouth opened, then closed, and Sam found his voice first. 

“Wait, what?” He said.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, and he _had_ to notice Loki’s expression, must be just ignoring it. Steve wondered if he’d heard much of the conversation and this was some kind of revenge. “Turned blue. Seemed to break the fever, somehow-”

“No,” Loki said, and his voice sounded strange, savage and desperate and Steve turned to look at him in alarm. “You were imagining things, seeing things-”

“I know what I saw,” Bucky said. “Steve did too. You were blue. And cold - the bathwater froze. And there were - markings, of some kind, on your skin-”

Loki was on his feet, suddenly, swaying. “You’re lying,” he snarled, the words stumbling, in the next breath: “it was a trick, an illusion, nothing-”

“Loki,” Sam said, his voice tense but carefully level. “Calm down. It’s fine.”

Head swinging from side to side, looking wildly between them, Steve saw him tense and realized what was going to happen a moment before Loki lunged for the front door. 

Steve was faster. He blocked it, rather than grabbing for Loki. “Hey!” He said. “What’s going on with you?”

For a second Steve thought Loki was going to go through him, fury flashing through the panic, his body coiling tight, but then it just - vanished. All of it gone, and he looked like he was going to keel over. 

Steve looked at Bucky reproachfully, but he looked...uneasy. Like he hadn’t expected that much of a reaction. Steve felt immediately guilty for thinking he had. 

Loki looked away from all of them, staring at a corner. “It is what I am,” he said dully, tonelessly, and then fell silent. It was pretty clear he wasn’t planning on saying more. Steve looked at Sam, who grimaced and shrugged helplessly. 

“Sit down,” said Bucky after a moment. “You’re going to fall over.” 

Loki’s head jerked around and he glared at Bucky, but said nothing. Instead of going back to the couch, he went for the stairs. Miraculously, he didn’t fall, vanishing down the hallway. 

Sam let out a breath. “So,” he said. “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said after a moment. “Basically.”

“Cool,” Sam said. “I’m going to go ahead and advise against bringing it up again.” Bucky’s jaw clenched like that had been pointed, which it probably had been. 

“What do you think he meant,” he said, clearly directed at Steve. “ _What I am._ ”

“I don’t know for sure,” Steve said honestly. “Thor said...apparently he’s not blood related to Thor. Maybe he’s...from some other planet?” 

Sam shrugged. “Don’t say that like I’d know. All this alien stuff is even newer to me than it is to you.” 

Steve’s phone buzzed and he jumped, then pulled it out. It was a text from an unknown number, and when he opened it it just said _this is Sharon. Omw._

“How did Sharon get my phone number?” He asked. 

“I gave it to her,” Sam said casually. Steve shot him a look, and he shrugged. “What? She was going to need to get in touch with us somehow.”

“Why didn’t you give her yours?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t give my number to just any girl who asks,” Sam said. 

“If you trust her, what’s the issue,” Bucky said, not quite a growl. _I’m not sure I do,_ Steve thought, but he wasn’t about to share that thought, and chose to leave it alone. 

“Anyway,” he said, “she says she’s on her way. “Buck…”

“You’re not kicking me out,” he said. “If you’re talking about me then I’m going to be there. I’m not going to go sit in time-out.” He paused, and then added, “Loki should be there too.” 

“Huh,” Sam said. “That’s a change of tune. Especially after you went and poked him with a stick.”

Bucky stiffened. “It wasn’t on _purpose,_ ” he snapped. “And we’re not _friends._ But it’s his life too and I don’t want to deal with him pitching a fit because you made a decision he doesn’t like.”

It was a fair point, Steve thought. And Loki was...paranoid. If he thought something was happening behind his back, he’d assume the worst. And that could get ugly fast. Whatever Loki had said about his magic, Steve kept thinking nervously about the piles of ash in his kitchen. 

“All right,” Steve said slowly. “When Sharon gets here…” He looked hopefully at Sam, who raised his hands. 

“Oh, no,” he said. “I’m not going to try coaxing the badger out of his den. You’re welcome to that job.” 

“I’ll do it,” Bucky said. Steve looked at him, startled. 

“That sure sounds like a great idea,” Sam said dryly. Bucky twitched. 

“You don’t think I can handle it?”

“Just saying finesse isn’t exactly your middle name and you’re not at the top of Loki’s list of favorite people. Especially not now.”

Bucky’s lips pressed tight together. He turned and stalked for the stairs. Steve reached out and grabbed his arm. “Bucky…”

He jerked it free, rounding on Steve, and for a second he thought Bucky might hit him, or attack him, a glint of something briefly feral in his eyes. Then it was gone, and it was just Buck staring back at him, all hard edges but with that same familiar obstinacy and determination. “Don’t make my decisions for me,” he said. “I can do what I want, now. Right?” 

Steve let him go, an ache in his chest. _Can’t do anything right, can I?_

“Don’t look so miserable, Steve,” Sam said. “Barnes is learning to express himself and he and Loki haven’t tried to kill each other even once in the last twenty-four hours. Sounds like progress to me.” 

“I’m not in the mood,” Steve said.

“Honestly, me neither,” Sam said. “But sometimes you’ve gotta laugh to keep yourself from lying down on the floor and screaming about what your life has turned into.”

“Sam,” Steve said slowly. “I…”

“If you’re going to tell me I can leave, I’m going to punch you,” Sam interrupted. “I _know_ I can leave. But I chose to step into this, and I’m not going to step out now. When I start something I see it through. So cut it out.” 

Steve smiled a little crookedly. “What’d I do to deserve a friend like you, huh?” 

“Good question,” Sam said, but he grinned. 

Bucky came down a couple minutes later, alone. “No luck?” Sam said. Bucky just glowered at him and went outside. 

* * *

Sharon let herself in. “No one was tailing me,” she said. “You’re clear, but I wouldn’t stay here for more than a day or so. How’s...everything?” 

“Fine,” Steve said staunchly. Loki still hadn’t emerged from upstairs, and Bucky was standing in one of the corners right now looking like he was a tiger preparing to pounce. Sharon, to her credit, managed not to look skeptical. 

“Where’s your other...guest?” She asked.

“Resting,” Steve said. 

“Not anymore,” said Loki from the stairs. Steve turned sharply. Loki looked to have pulled himself together, and despite the sweats and scarecrow thinness he was managing to look almost regal. Though Steve suspected his hand on the bannister wasn’t just for show. His eyes like chips of green stone were fixed on Sharon. “The Captain said you worked for SHIELD.”

“Past tense,” Steve said quickly. 

“How far past,” Loki said. There was something more dangerous about him now, Steve thought, than there had been since rescuing him. Even with Bucky he’d been wild, uncontrolled, but now he was like a knife, focused and pointing straight at Sharon. 

Sharon held her ground. “I’m here to help.” 

Loki’s teeth flashed. “You say.”

“I wasn’t part of what happened to you,” Sharon said, and Steve saw Loki flinch very slightly. 

“Perhaps not,” he said after a beat. “But you think I should still be there.”

Bucky shifted and Steve looked at Sharon, struck by the repetition of his own half-accusation. Sharon’s lips tightened briefly and she lifted her chin. “No,” she said. “I don’t. Maybe I don’t think you should be free, but that’s not the same thing. And I’m following Steve’s lead.” 

“Free,” Loki echoed, after a moment, and made an odd sound in the back of his throat, but then he...if not relaxed, at least unclenched slightly. The metaphorical knife lowering. Bucky leaned back against the wall. 

“If I’ve passed that test, then,” Sharon said dryly, turning to Steve (though he noticed she kept one eye on the staircase), “how quickly can you get out of town?” 

“That depends on how quickly we can find somewhere to live,” Steve said. “I don’t want to run with nowhere to go.”

“I have a place,” Sharon said. “It’s about twenty miles out of the city, a couple acres of land.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Another safe house?” 

“No,” Sharon said. “This is off the record. It’s a little bit of a mess, but it’s a roof and four walls, and I figure you’ll need something to do.” 

Steve glanced at Sam, uncertain. “What do you mean, off the record?” 

“I mean that,” Sharon said. “It doesn’t belong to anyone, it’s not listed anywhere, there’s no address. It’s abandoned, at least to appearances.”

“So how do you know about it,” Loki asked, his voice rough but his eyes narrowed and intent. Steve had to remember that he might be weakened, might be traumatized, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sharp as ever. At least when he hadn’t checked out completely. 

“Not important,” Sharon said. Bucky shifted where he was leaning against the wall.

“Seems pretty important to me. How do we know this isn’t a trap? _Why_ do you trust her?” That last directed at Steve. Sharon stiffened. 

“Why does he trust _you_ ,” she asked. Bucky smiled, but it was a ghastly expression.

“Because Steve’s an idiot. Wrong question.” 

“Bucky,” Steve said, but he looked at Sharon, pleading with her to answer. 

“I don’t care if you believe her. I need an answer.”

She inhaled slowly and let it out, but she didn’t look happy. “Fine,” she said. “Fine. You want to know? It used to belong to an extremist group that was trying to bring back HYDRA. They were using it for a base of operations back in the 80s. It was being funded by someone in Washington so the whole thing got scrubbed from the files. I know about it because of my aunt.”

Steve saw Bucky tense at the mention of HYDRA. “Your aunt,” Loki said, his voice taut like a tripwire. 

“Margaret Carter,” Sharon said. She wasn’t looking at Steve when she said it. Bucky’s eyes widened a fraction before he wiped his face blank, but Steve jerked back. Sam blinked. 

“Margaret as in Peggy Carter?” He said. “ _That’s_ a coincidence.”

“Is that why they sent you to spy on me?” Steve asked, a tangle of feelings in his chest. He caught himself searching her face again, looking for some trace of Peggy in her features. “Because - because-”

“Because they were hoping it’d get me into your good graces?” Sharon’s voice was dry. “If that was the case, wouldn’t I have mentioned it at some point? I’m good at what I do and I didn’t leverage my family connections to get where I am.”

That was clearly a sore spot. Steve still didn’t like it, but he supposed it was a fair point. She’d seemed reluctant to mention it even now. 

“She was spying on you?” Bucky said, almost a growl. “For who?” 

“For SHIELD,” Sharon said. “They figured someone should be watching his back.”

Bucky, to Steve’s slight disgruntlement, seemed to accept that. 

“If HYDRA knew about this place and used it before, what’s to keep them from going back to it?” Sam asked.

“Why would they?” Sharon said. “It’s been burned, and the last thing they’d expect is for you to set up in one of their old haunts.”

That was fair, and probably true. Still, the idea of living in a place that had housed HYDRA - or at least housed people who _wanted_ to be HYDRA - made Steve’s skin crawl. He could only imagine what it felt like for Bucky - or Loki. He glanced in the latter’s direction and saw he was holding very still, his wary gaze still intent on Sharon. 

“I don’t like it,” Sam said. “But it’s your call, Steve.”

Another one of those choices where there was no winning, Steve thought wearily. There seemed to be a lot of those, lately. They didn’t have options unless they wanted to try to wait to find some place legally, and that could take a while and would put them on the grid, make them easier to find. But he doubted either Loki or Bucky was going to take it well. “I don’t see that we have a choice,” Steve said. “And Sharon’s right - they won’t expect it.” 

Bucky made a noise in the back of his throat and left the room. Loki stayed where he was, but Steve felt his eyes turn toward him. “This is a trap,” he said. “You _must_ realize that. She would have us walk into a HYDRA den, supposedly abandoned-”

“I’ll check it out first,” Steve said, and when Sam glanced at him, added, “Sam and me.”

“And get yourselves caught and killed,” Loki snapped. 

“Do you have another idea?” Steve asked, his voice maybe a little too hard. Loki glanced away, his shoulders hunching, but he fell silent. That made twice today, Steve realized, that he’d snapped at Loki. If he wasn’t careful he was going to lose all the ground he’d gained. 

“I’d offer to come with you for backup,” Sharon said, “but I’m getting the idea that I wouldn’t be welcome.” She didn’t sound bitter, exactly, but Steve felt a pang nonetheless. 

“I do appreciate you helping,” he said. “Honestly. Things will...things will settle down.”

“Will they?” Sharon said, sounding skeptical. Steve ran his fingers through his hair. 

“At least...at least from what they are now.” Sharon raised her eyebrows, but Steve didn’t rise to it. “You should’ve told me. About Peggy.” 

“If I’d wanted you to know, I would have,” she said. “Do you have a pen? I’m going to give you the address. I have some basic supplies in my car, but for the most part, you’re on your own. Take comfort in the fact that HYDRA doesn’t have the resources they did before you pulled the weed, or else they probably would have come after you earlier.”

Loki laughed, short and sharp. All of them turned to look at him - he’d been so quiet Steve had thought he might be sulking. “Do you know that?” He said, smiling a little nastily. “Are you certain they weren’t just watching, _waiting_ while they observed their - _quarry?_ ”

Steve hadn’t thought of that. He’d assumed...he felt a sudden shiver down his spine, imagining them watching while Bucky went for his runs, biding their time. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “No, they wouldn’t’ve waited that long. They’d prefer attacking while-” He stopped. While you were still weak and Bucky was still off balance. 

“Steve’s right,” Sam said. “They could have grabbed Bucky anytime when he was out running on his own.”

Loki stared at them a moment longer, then retreated. Steve rubbed his eyes. “Should I go talk to him?” 

“Not a bad idea,” Sam said after a moment. “Considering how the rest of the day’s gone for him. Sharon, I’ll get the address.” 

Steve headed for the stairs and climbed up them slowly, not sure what to expect. He found Loki sitting against the bedroom door, his expression blank as he looked up at Steve. 

“I wondered if it would be you or Sam that would come to deal with me,” he said, a twist on the last three words that made Steve want to sigh. 

“Lucky you,” he said dryly. “You got me.” Loki’s lips twitched very briefly like he was thinking about smiling and didn’t quite get there. Otherwise...he was tense, guarded in a new way. A different way, Steve thought. He sat down too, figuring that was better than making Loki look up at him. 

“You think I am overly cautious,” Loki said, while Steve was still trying to work out how to open a conversation. “About your friend, and this _Agent Carter,_ and - HYDRA.” It wasn’t a question. Steve considered his words carefully. 

“I think it’s understandable,” he said. “Given what you’ve...been through.” 

Loki’s expression tightened minutely before he clearly forced it to smooth. “I didn’t ask if it was understandable.” 

“But that’s what I said,” Steve said. He glanced toward the stairs. “And I’m not...I’m taking this seriously. I _do_ take it seriously.” 

Loki looked at him through narrowed eyes for several moments, and then slumped. “I know,” he said, quietly. Steve blinked. 

“You...do?” 

“Yes,” Loki said wearily. “If nothing else, then on your friend’s behalf.”

Steve chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally. Loki’s head jerked up like Steve had hit him, his expression a mixture of baffled and worried. 

“What?” 

“For...Bucky. What he said. I wasn’t going to bring it up-”

Loki’s eyes cut away. “That would have been worse,” he said, voice taut. “You knowing and I ignorant. A cruel kind of mercy.” He looked almost sick, and Steve cleared his throat. 

“Clearly it, uh...means something to you,” he said, “but it doesn’t to me. I was just...surprised.”

Loki still didn’t look at him. “You should be comforted,” he said. “You may remain secure in your certainty that the Aesir are your allies. I am not just an outlier; I am not even one of them.” His head slumped back against the door and he rasped a laugh. “ _They_ were certainly delighted to learn of my true nature.”

Steve almost held his breath. It was the first time Loki had said much of anything about what had happened to him, and he couldn’t decide if he should say something or just wait. People said, now, that it was good to _talk about it,_ but Steve wasn’t sure how true that could be. 

“You want to ask,” Loki said. “Why? It won’t tell you anything about your friend’s experience.” 

Steve jerked. “That’s not...I’m not sure I _do_ want to ask, actually. But if you think it’d help, you can say anything you want.”

“Anything?” Loki’s eyes snapped open. “So should I tell you how they tested poisons on me to gauge their efficacy, how they bled me almost dry again and again, how they cut me open and reached inside and nothing they used was strong enough to keep me from feeling-”

Loki cut off, shaking. He looked sick. Steve felt like he might _be_ sick. He wished he hadn’t said anything. 

“I’m sorry,” he said faintly, finally. 

Loki’s jaw worked several times before he responded. “Keep your apologies. It would not...they would not have done the same to your friend. At least not...all of it. They needed him to be...useful.” His voice was flat and distant, like Loki was trying to force himself away from the words he was saying. 

“I wasn’t offering because of Bucky,” Steve said carefully. He still felt a little like he wanted to throw up, Loki’s words echoing in his head. More slowly, he added, “you know I don’t need you to be useful.”

Loki made a harsh, faintly hysterical sound. “Good,” he said. “Because I am not.”

Steve held back the urge to apologize again. “Do you...need anything?”

“Nothing you could give.”

“I could try.”

Loki looked at Steve from suddenly hooded eyes. “Can you go back in time and convince your masters that death would be an appropriate punishment?” Steve blinked, struck dumb, and Loki’s lips twisted. “I thought not.” 

After a moment, he got up. “We’ll probably be leaving soon,” he said. Loki’s eyebrows lifted. 

“I should gather my things?” He said with great irony. Steve managed not to wince, but Loki’s expression smoothed to indifference before he could respond. “I will be ready.”

Steve hesitated a moment longer before he left. He didn’t know what else he could say.

And wasn’t that just the story of his life lately.

* * *

Steve left Bucky alone, since that was what he seemed to want. Sam had already mapped the drive, but they were waiting until evening to leave in the hopes that it would give Loki and Bucky both time to settle. 

Based on the look on Bucky’s face when he came and found Steve in the bedroom upstairs, that wasn’t going so well. 

“You’re really going through with this,” he growled. “Going to _live_ in one of HYDRA’s old nests.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s an _old_ nest. And not really HYDRA - just some people who wanted to be.” 

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Is there a difference?” 

“Bucky…” Steve sighed. “It’s going to be fine. Between the four of us, we’ll make it safe.” 

“The _four_ of _us_?” Bucky said, his expression tightening. “Loki’s on the verge of losing it completely, my brain might be full of trigger words, Wilson doesn’t trust me - and he shouldn’t. And you-” Bucky cut off with a noise of near disgust, and Steve’s stomach clenched.

“What about me?” Steve asked carefully, almost scared to hear the answer. Bucky shook his head, his lips twisting. “If I’m...if I’m doing something wrong…”

Bucky looked like he was breathing hard. “What do you want from me,” he said finally, his voice too flat for it to really be a question. 

“What do you mean, what do I want?” Steve asked. Bucky tensed further.

“I mean what I said. The way you look at me with your sad, puppy-dog eyes. You expect something. You _want_ something. Want me to - what? Be your old pal Bucky Barnes? I’m not.”

That hit Steve like a punch to the chest. “I know you’ve changed-”

“But you want me to change back,” Bucky snapped. “You want me to be your project, a cause you can martyr yourself for.”

“No,” Steve said urgently. “I don’t - that’s not how I think of you. You’re my friend and I want to help-”

“You want to _fix_ me,” Bucky said. “Well, guess what, Steve, you can’t. You _can’t_ fix me because there’s nothing _to_ fix. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not _what_ you think I am. That’s not going to go away, and I’m getting real sick of you looking at me like you’re waiting for me to shed my dirty killer skin and come out clean.” His voice rose as he went on, almost shouting. “What you want, Steve? Ain’t going to happen. You’d better get used to that now.”

Steve’s chest hurt and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He shook his head, hard. “That’s not true,” he said. “None of - I’m not trying to fix you, I’m not trying to erase what happened to you-”

“And what about what I _did,_ ” Bucky said. 

“It wasn’t you-”

“You sure about that?” Bucky moved, surged toward him. His metal hand wrapped around Steve’s throat, lifting him and slamming him back hard enough to crack drywall. Something whirred in his arm as his fingers squeezed and Steve choked, staring at Bucky’s face and seeing a stranger. 

Not the Winter Soldier, a blank slate bereft of will. Someone else.

He heard running feet and Sam’s voice. “What the _fuck_ are you doing?”

Bucky let go. Steve hit the floor, gasping, his heart hammering and not just from the adrenaline rush. At least it hadn’t been Loki, he thought numbly. That would’ve ended in blood for sure. As it was, Sam was standing looking like he was ready to try taking on Bucky with his bare hands.

“Sam,” Steve forced out with a bit of a wheeze. “It’s fine. I’m fine. We were just...arguing.”

“Hell of an argument,” Sam said. He sounded pissed, and didn’t look away from Bucky. 

“It’s over now,” Bucky said, his voice back to flat neutrality. He shoulder-checked Sam on his way out, and Sam looked like he was seriously thinking about punching him. 

“I’m fine,” Steve said again, though he didn’t feel it. Everything Bucky said echoed in his skull. _Ain’t going to happen. You’d better get used to that now._ That was worse than the hand around his throat. 

“He fucking _attacked_ you, Steve.” 

Steve looked up. “Loki attacked you. I was...we were arguing. He was trying to - make a point.” 

Sam’s expression stayed mulish for a moment longer, but then he sighed. “I heard you arguing. Sounded ugly.”

“It’s fine,” Steve said faintly. Sam just stared at him. 

“Yeah, sure looks like it’s fine,” he said. “Whatever point he was making...I hope he feels like he made it.”

Steve looked down at the floorboards and forced himself to his feet. “Is it time to go?” 

“Yeah, just about.” Sam was quiet for a moment, then moved toward Steve and squeezed his shoulder. “Give him some time. And try to avoid getting strangled in the future. My heart can’t take it and I don’t want to try fighting a super-soldier without my wings.”

Steve didn’t smile. _You can’t fix me because there’s nothing to fix. I’m not who you think I am._

What was he _supposed_ to do?

 _What do you want from_ me _, Buck?_

* * *

They piled into the car again. This time Loki took the passenger seat before Steve could try to guide him into it. Bucky sat in the back with Steve but seemed to be trying to stay as far from him as possible. Steve tried not to let that hurt. 

The drive was quiet. Sam chose the music: Marvin Gaye, and Steve wondered if that was meant to be soothing. Steve glanced at Loki, who was staring out the window with his head resting against the glass. 

It seemed like twenty miles couldn’t go fast enough.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything, in the wise words of horse_ebooks, continues to happen so much. 
> 
> Another chapter! I'm currently sort of exhausted and brain dead so I don't have a whole lot to say other than my continued thanks for everyone reading and reviewing this story as it goes, and continued appreciation for my long-suffering [beta.](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) I would also like to thank the reviewer who at some point mentioned wanting these crazy kids to have a dog, because you understand me. 
> 
> (There isn't a dog, just before you get excited. I don't trust anyone here except maybe Sam to take care of a dog.)

Loki knew he had been in a car before. Barton had driven him in one, and he did not think he had begun in the tomb where he had ended (where he had been pared down to nothing), so he must have been transported at some point. He could not remember the latter journey, though, and he had been...rather distracted during the former. Nor could he remember the journey from the Captain’s apartment to the so-called _safe house._

He found he rather liked it. Sitting in the front, with space separating him from Wilson and where he did not have to look at anyone else, he could stare out the window and absorb the world outside - a world he had scarcely glimpsed in two years. 

He did not have to look at anyone else and know that they knew what he was. _It doesn’t mean anything to me,_ Rogers had said, but it still made Loki feel sick, imagining them staring at that grotesque body, gawking at the creature, _the beast making play it’s a man._

How much more shame could he bear before he died of it?

He’d fled, a coward to the last, and of all people it was the soldier who had come to find him. _Didn’t know it was such a big deal,_ he’d said, voice rough. _I just figured it was some weird alien thing. You should come downstairs. That SHIELD agent is coming and you’re the only other one here who seems to get we shouldn’t trust her._

Loki hadn’t answered. Had listened, lips pressed together, and wondered at that _we._

He was not certain what to make of the soldier. Loki trusted him no more than he trusted anyone else, but he began to wonder if he might not be a useful ally. Most of him still recoiled from that, thinking of HYDRA, thinking of that metal hand on his chest holding him down as he screamed curses that did nothing and his ribs cracked under the pressure. 

The Captain wanted to be right that the soldier was safe. Wilson was still wary. Barnes seemed to waver somewhere in between. Maybe he was seeking his own ally. Possibilities. 

His mind was going in useless circles, and Loki knew it, but the only alternative was the growing pit of dread in his stomach as they drew nearer and nearer to their new home. It might be abandoned now, but Loki could not stop imagining a basement, a door slamming shut behind him, laughter as they mocked his folly to believe he could escape. Rogers and Sam bleeding on the ground. They’d take Barnes with them.

_Shut him down,_ someone said right by his ear. _That screaming is going to drive me insane._ He jerked up sharply, gasping, and for a moment the resistance against his chest was-

The car bumped, jarring him again. Wilson’s head was half turned to look at him. “You okay?” He said. Loki wanted to laugh and just jerked his head in a nod instead.

“What happened?” Rogers asked. 

“Nothing,” Wilson said. “We’re good.” 

Loki was pathetically grateful. He leaned his head back against the window and closed his eyes.

* * *

The farm was a long ways out, down a gravel driveway that would offer plenty of warning of approaching cars. The grass in the overgrown fields wasn’t over head height, and around the buildings themselves there was plenty of visibility. There were two: a dilapidated house and an even more dilapidated barn. Steve felt a well of dismay.

“Well,” Sam said after a long moment, “Carter wasn’t kidding about it needing work.”

Loki made a noise that might almost have been a laugh, or maybe was trying not to be a laugh. Steve glanced at Bucky, who still hadn’t spoken to him since their argument. 

“I’ll go check it out,” he said. “Make sure everything is clear.”

“Uh uh,” Sam said. “Buddy system, right? You two be good.” He jumped out of the car before Steve could stop him. Steve looked back and forth between Bucky and Loki, hunting for the right words. 

“Go ahead, Steve,” Bucky said, his voice rough, but he sounded tired rather than angry. “We won’t set anything on fire.” He noticed that _we,_ but to his surprise Loki didn’t object to it. Though he might just not be paying attention. 

“All right,” he said, pushing down his worry. “We’ll be right back.” 

He got out of the car and walked over to Sam, who was scanning the buildings in front of them. “Approach is good,” he said. “It’ll make an ambush hard. Do we want to have weapons available or is that too risky?” 

Steve sighed. “Loki already _has_ his magic, however weak it is, and I’m pretty sure he could find a weapon in an empty room. And Bucky...maybe it’d be better if everyone feels like they can defend themselves.” 

Sam nodded slowly. “Probably true. We can get a start on figuring that out. But probably not yet.” He glanced at Steve. “House first?” 

“Sure.” 

They had plenty of experience with doing this together during the hunt for Bucky, and it almost felt good to do it again. Something simple and familiar and uncomplicated. 

“I can hear you angsting from here,” Sam said, once they’d cleared the exterior of the house and moved inside. 

“Sorry,” Steve said, grimacing. “Just...thinking.” 

“Angsting,” Sam corrected. “Which - fair enough. You’ve had a hell of a month. _I’ve_ had a hell of a month, and it’s not my friend brought back from the dead.”

Steve wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it would come out hysterical. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Loki is better enough to be talking but also better enough I have to worry he’ll kill us if he freaks out, and Bucky hates me.”

“First one’s probably fair,” Sam said, “but there’s not a whole lot we can do about it except trying not to trigger him. Second one...maybe you’re not wrong there, either.” 

Steve flinched. “Then what-”

“Hold on, I’m not done,” Sam said. “Just because he hates you now doesn’t mean he’ll hate you forever. He kind of hates the whole world, as far as I can tell, and you happen to be part of that. Space and time do a lot.” 

“So I should just - leave him alone? Ignore him?” Steve asked. Sam held up his hands. 

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “Maybe you should ask him what he’d like you to do.”

Steve opened his mouth to say he’d _tried,_ and then shut it. Had he? Really asked what Bucky needed from him? He couldn’t remember. What he was doing now...wasn’t working. 

He set it aside to think about later while they swept the top floor. On the way over to the barn, Sam said, “about Loki.” 

“What about him?” 

“I want you to be prepared for the possibility that things are going to get worse again.”

Steve stopped and turned toward Sam. “What? Why?” 

Sam glanced toward the car. “Because he’s recovered enough so he’s not concentrated just on surviving anymore,” he said. “Which means brainspace for things like anxiety and flashbacks and actually having to process trauma.”

“Oh,” Steve said after a moment, his stomach sinking. “I...see.” 

Sam shrugged. “Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I am. It’s just a pattern I’ve seen before, and I thought you should know before it came up.” 

They checked the outside of the barn like he had with the house, and then went inside. Mostly it was empty, parts of the roof fallen in, but pretty quickly Steve noticed an irregularity in part of the floor. He went over and stamped on it, and tensed at what he heard.

“Hey, Sam,” he said. “The floor’s hollow here.” 

“Oh, boy,” Sam said. “See a latch somewhere?” 

Steve crouched down. For a second he thought it was boarded shut, but then his fingers found a small irregularity - a ring, and he pulled up on it. The wood was swollen from decades of temperature change, but he managed to lever it up, revealing stairs down. 

“Better and better,” Sam said when Steve looked up at him. “Going down?” 

“I think we’d better,” Steve said, wondering if it was some kind of escape tunnel. Almost hoping that was what it was. 

The stairs led down into a sort of cellar walled in concrete, which was cracked in places but seemed to have held up pretty well. Steve didn’t notice that much, though, his eyes flicking from the rusted metal table to the cart in one corner and the implements on it. There was a stain on the concrete by the table, too old to identify for sure. 

“Looks like SHIELD missed a spot,” Sam said, his voice strained. Steve thought of the place they’d found Loki and swallowed hard. 

“Let’s...let’s close this off. Cover it. And agree not to mention it.” 

He expected Sam to argue for honesty, but he didn’t hesitate before nodding. “Yeah. I think that’s probably a good idea.” 

They left the room behind and Steve closed the door as hard as he could. “Let’s get some concrete and fill it in as soon as we can,” Steve said. Sam just nodded, a short jerk of his head. 

“Let’s get back,” he said, “before anyone gets too antsy and decides to do something drastic.”

* * *

When they got back to the van, Loki and Bucky were eyeing each other with clear suspicion but not outright hostility, and they turned nearly in unison when Sam opened the door. “All clear,” he said. “Everybody out.” 

Bucky got out, eyes scanning the horizon, moving over Steve without stopping before settling on the house. “This place really is a wreck,” he said. 

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve said gamely, watching Loki unfold from the back seat and noticing how he leaned on the car. Still weaker than he wanted to show. That was something to watch for. If Bucky looked annoyed, Loki’s face was expressionless. “Meet with your approval?” Steve asked, trying to sound light.

“This place is haunted,” Loki said. One of his hands rubbed up and down his arm. Bucky’s eyes widened and he turned around. 

“Do you mean literally?” He asked, before Sam or Steve could say anything. “Can you - see _ghosts?_ ”

Loki shook his head, a quick jerk back and forth. “Not like that. Energy can...stagnate. Turn rotten. It has done so here.” He shuddered. “We should go.”

Bucky looked uncertain. Steve felt a chill, but he pushed it off. Maybe Loki was telling the truth, or maybe he was just spooked, but either way. “If it’s just energy stagnating, we’ll get it moving again. Clear things out. Nothing’s going to actively hurt us, right?”

Loki’s eyes drifted toward the barn and Steve tensed, but they only lingered a moment. “No,” he said finally. “Not...likely. You don’t have _draugr_ on this Realm.” 

“We don’t have what?” Sam asked. Loki still looked distracted. 

“ _Draugr,_ ” he said. “Unquiet and envious spirits of the dead that stalk the living.”

“Yeah,” said Sam after a moment’s silence. “I’m pretty sure we don’t have those.” 

“Let’s go inside,” Steve suggested. We can start working out where everyone’s going to sleep, figure out what we need most immediately. There’s some food in the trunk to tide us over until Sam or I can make it out to a grocery store. Sound good?” 

“Best we’re going to get, isn’t it?” Bucky said. Steve flinched. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” Sam said, which brought Bucky’s head around sharp, but Sam didn’t seem to notice. Or at least pretended not to. “The rest of us have to live here too.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed but to Steve’s surprise he subsided, and a moment later strode toward the house like he intended to leave all of them in the dust. Steve trailed after him, though he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam and Loki were following. They were, though Loki looked like he wanted to be heading in the opposite direction.

Steve thought of what Sam had said about things getting worse and tried not to feel a pulse of dread. They’d really have to see about filling in that room as soon as possible. It’d be just their luck for Loki to stumble into it. 

The list of immediate needs, it turned out when Steve started investigating more closely, was not a short one. Appliances would need replacing. Sections of the roof needed repairing. Basically, it’d been a long time since anyone had been living in the building, and it showed. 

Sharon had given them a camp stove, an air mattress, and some sleeping bags along with the groceries, but looking around it was hard not to feel a certain amount of despair. The fact that Bucky didn’t seem to want to stop pacing wasn’t helping, either. 

It took Steve maybe twenty minutes to notice that Loki had vanished, and that only because Bucky came by and said, “Loki’s gone.”

Steve immediately thought of the barn and jerked around toward Sam, who said, “Gone _where?_ ” 

Bucky shrugged. “Outside,” he said. “I’m not his bodyguard, am I?”

“I’ll go,” Steve said, and hurriedly went to the front door and rushed out. Could Loki have taken off again? He still wasn’t strong - had just barely recovered from his fever - but in this open terrain…

Steve almost tripped over him where Loki was lying on his back in the grass, staring up at the sky. For a heart-stopping half-second Steve thought he’d died, but then he realized that Loki’s chest was still moving shallowly up and down. 

“Um,” Steve said cautiously. “Are you all right?” 

“Debatable,” Loki murmured, not opening his eyes. Steve wavered over how to respond to that, but before he figured it out Loki sighed and said, “It is...good to be outside. The air is cleaner here, for all the foulness of this place.” 

“Oh,” Steve said after a beat. “That...makes sense.” He shifted, looking toward the house. “If you could...let one of us know when you’re leaving, that’d be...helpful.” 

Loki opened one eye and regarded him. “Must I?” Steve hesitated, but the eye closed again. “Very well.”

“Are you planning to stay out here?” Steve asked, after another couple seconds of silence. Loki exhaled loudly, sounding resigned, and Steve added quickly, “that’s fine, just...wanted to know.” 

“I thought I might, yes.” 

Looking down at Loki, he still looked so _thin._ He’d gained a little weight, true, but not much, the bones in his face and wrists sharp against his skin. Steve felt a little pang of guilt. He’d stopped paying much attention to the process of Loki’s healing since Bucky had arrived, assuming that he would mend the rest of the way on his own after he’d cleared the worst of it, but clearly that wasn’t the case. 

“What are you waiting for?” Loki asked abruptly. 

“Sorry, I was just - thinking.” He hesitated, then said, “do you need anything? Food, or…you didn’t have breakfast, did you?” 

“I am not hungry,” Loki said. “Please, do not transfer your concern from your friend to me just because he won’t accept it.”

“That’s not-!” Steve cut off. _Was_ that what he was doing? No, he thought ferociously. He wasn’t in any danger of confusing Loki and Bucky. “I was just asking. You’re too thin. You need to eat.” Loki said nothing, and Steve shifted nervously. “Well?” 

“Your food,” Loki said. “It tastes...strange. Like there is poison in it.”

Steve blinked, but he supposed...preservatives, he realized. The same kind of chemicals that had sometimes thrown _him_ off, in his first weeks back, only compounded by starvation and the fact that Loki was from a completely different planet… “I didn’t...think of that. It’s not poison,” he added quickly. 

“It made me sick.”

“...oh,” Steve said. “You didn’t say anything.” He knew as soon as the words were out of his mouth the response they would get, and sure enough Loki just looked at him as if to say _of course I didn’t._ Steve rubbed his eyes. 

“What do you think I’m going to _do,_ ” he asked, and a moment later almost wished he could take back the question. But… “There’s no hidden catch, here. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, if something’s wrong for god’s sake just - tell me. Or Sam, if that’s easier. It’s not a test, or a trap, or _whatever_ you think it is. We really are trying to help.” 

Loki was giving him that look again like Steve had started babbling gibberish. This time Steve noticed something slightly different about it - not just the wary regard of a stray cat eyeing an unfamiliar human, but almost a yearning - looking for the trap but wanting to believe it wasn’t there. 

Steve sat down, slowly. “How about in the future when you find something you like, make a note of it. Then we’ll know to get more.” He paused. “How about the pears? Were those okay?” 

“They were...better,” Loki said. 

“Uh huh. So I guess I should try organic next time.” He gestured around them. “Who knows, maybe we can start a vegetable garden, grow our own food. There’s plenty of room.” 

Loki eyed him sidelong. “Do you know a whit about growing vegetables?” He asked. 

“People learn all the time.” Steve picked at the grass on the ground. His thoughts drifted back to Loki in the grip of his fever, mistaking Steve for Thor, begging for mercy. His stomach twisted and he cleared his throat. “You know...Thor didn’t know, either.” 

Loki fell very still, every muscle freezing, and he said nothing. Steve had an awful feeling he’d made a mistake, but he couldn’t back out now. “About...about HYDRA, I mean. Or what was happening to you-”

“You assume,” Loki said. His voice was dead, hollow. “You would be wrong. Asgard’s watcher can see everything, and Asgard’s watcher bows to the will of Asgard’s king. Thor’s father.” He paused. “So I suppose perhaps Thor is unaware. But if he is, it is because he has not asked.”

Steve felt cold in the pit of his stomach. He shook his head, opened his mouth, and closed it. It didn’t square with what he’d gathered about Thor and his feelings about Loki, but _Loki_ certainly sounded like he believed it. The idea of an all-seeing watcher made Steve’s skin crawl, but if there really was one of those and someone on Asgard had seen what was happening and hadn’t stopped it…

He didn’t know what to think. 

“You don’t want to believe it,” Loki said. “I can sympathize. I didn’t either. But eventually waiting for a rescue that doesn’t come is worse than knowing it won’t.”

Steve stared at Loki, at a loss for words. Steve had always counted on Thor coming back eventually and taking Loki to Asgard with him. He thought to wonder for the first time what would happen then. How did Asgard deal with its prisoners? If Loki was right, and what had been done to him had been allowed…

Steve shook the thought off. He shouldn’t assume anything. Loki had already shown that he defaulted to the worst possible assumptions about people; there was no reason to think that wasn’t what was going on here, too.

He stood up slowly. “I’ll...leave you alone.” Loki didn’t reply, and after a moment’s more hesitation Steve turned and went back inside. 

“Bucky’s upstairs,” Sam said when he walked in. “Before you panic.” 

“Loki’s sunbathing,” Steve said. “We should try to get some food without preservatives. Apparently it tastes like poison to him.” 

Sam grimaced. “Oh. Didn’t think of that.” He exhaled. “That’s going to be an expensive proposition. Eating natural isn’t exactly for the poor. Or the fugitive.”

“Maybe we should get some chickens,” Steve said, half joking. Sam raised his eyebrows. 

“A pig or two? Some dairy cows?” 

Steve made a face at him. “Just a thought. But...he still looks half starved, Sam.”

“I wasn’t arguing with you,” Sam said. “Just noting it’s not necessarily going to be easy.” 

“None of this is,” Steve said glumly. Sam smiled crookedly. 

“Fair enough.” He paused. “I guess I probably don’t need to ask why Loki didn’t mention this before now.” 

“Probably not, no,” Steve said. “Do you think he’ll ever figure out that asking for something doesn’t mean we’ll immediately take it away?” 

“Good question,” Sam said, which was not quite the answer Steve had been hoping for. 

* * *

Steve made soup from a can over the camp stove. He watched Loki sidelong and he grimaced after the first bite, but then seemed to notice Steve looking and emptied the bowl. Steve thought about trying to catch his eye and smile but decided it’d probably be better not to draw attention to it. 

There were, as it turned out, an even four bedrooms on the second floor of the house. Divvying them up went smoothly enough - Steve hastened to volunteer for the smallest, and if for a moment it looked like Bucky and Sam were going to square off for the one closest to the stairs, ultimately Bucky backed off. Loki seemed to have drifted into a vague fog, not quite paying attention to anyone else. He disappeared into his room almost immediately along with his sleeping bag.

Steve hesitated, frowning at the closed door. 

“Leave it,” Sam said. “Give him some privacy. Lord knows none of you have gotten much of that in the last couple weeks.” 

So Steve left it. The rest of the afternoon was pretty quiet; Bucky was still barely talking and Sam settled in with a book and a loudly stated, “nobody have any crises, okay? I want to finally finish this thing.” 

Which left Steve a little at loose ends. He poked around the house trying to make an inventory of what needed doing. The fridge was old but Steve thought with a little tinkering it would probably still work. The electricity was up and running, which raised the question of _how,_ but right now Steve wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. There were too few of them around. 

Night fell. Loki didn’t emerge for dinner and Steve tried knocking on his door to no response, but Sam stopped him before he barged in. “He’s probably sleeping,” he said. “Which is good news, right?” 

“Right,” Steve allowed, though he didn’t feel great about it. 

He waited until both Sam and Bucky had retreated to roll out his sleeping bag and crawl into it, but he just lay there awake, staring at the cracked ceiling. It wasn’t leaking, but it looked like it might need patching. 

Worrying about the ceiling wasn’t what was keeping him awake, though. He kept thinking about what Bucky had said, and that led him back to the train in the mountains and that brought him around to the ice. 

_If you hadn’t been frozen, maybe you could’ve saved him sooner._

Steve got up. He splashed his face from the sink (he’d managed to figure out how to turn on the water, at least) and paused outside Bucky’s door only to turn aside. 

He went to Loki’s instead, planning to just poke his head in and make sure he was still breathing. It hadn’t been that long ago that he’d been feverish and seizing, and whatever Loki said, Steve wasn’t sure he trusted his assessment of his own health. 

He knocked first, then opened the door just a sliver.

The room was empty. 

Steve’s heart started beating faster and he almost called for Sam, but then he noticed a door on the ceiling.

He walked over slowly, reached up, and pulled it down. Climbing up the ladder, Steve poked his head up into the space, which could hardly even be called an attic. He would barely be able to kneel in it. Loki was curled up in his sleeping bag in one corner, seemingly fast asleep. 

Steve eased back down as quietly as he could, surprised that Loki didn’t wake up. Just as he was closing the door, Steve fell still. 

Loki probably hadn’t been sleeping, at least in part, because he didn’t feel safe. He felt safe up there, in that tiny space he must’ve had to slither into. 

He thought of the room where he and Sam had found Loki. Small and dark. 

Maybe the attic was reassuring because that was just what Loki was used to, now; because at least in that tiny room they hadn’t been actively torturing him.

Steve closed the ceiling door as quietly as he could, his heart squeezing. He went back out into the hallway and knocked on the door to Sam’s room. 

“Just a minute,” he heard in Sam’s voice. He sounded half asleep, and Steve grimaced. Right. 

“It’s fine,” he said. “I...forgot what time it is. Go back to sleep.” 

Sam opened the door, his eyes bleary. “I will. Just as soon as you tell me why you woke me up in the first place.” 

Steve glanced toward the door of Loki’s room and rubbed his eyes. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just…” He shook his head. “This is going to get better, right?” 

“Sure,” Sam said dryly. “Soon we’ll have a working stove and some furniture.” 

“I mean…” Steve exhaled. 

“I know what you mean,” Sam said, sounding tired but more serious. “And probably it will, yeah. But I don’t know when, or how much, or what it’ll look like. There’s no guarantees, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve said wearily. “I _know._ ” He remembered what he’d said to Sharon about Loki, about him not bouncing back, maybe ever. That should be a good thing, maybe - it _was_ if it meant he wouldn’t hurt people anymore. But the ends didn’t justify the means, and _this_ wasn’t right. He dragged a hand down his face. “Loki’s sleeping in...there’s a space in the ceiling above his room.”

“Okay,” Sam said slowly, and then blinked, his expression shifting. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah,” Steve said wearily. “I don’t know if...should we do something about that?” 

“Like what?” Sam said. Steve looked at him helplessly, and Sam sighed. “I don’t know, Steve. Probably just leave it for now. If it helps, it helps.” 

“I guess,” Steve said reluctantly. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Yeah, you’d better be,” Sam muttered, but he gave Steve a weak smile. “Go to bed. All our problems will still be there in the morning.”

“Aren’t they always,” Steve said, but he closed the door and trudged back to his bedroom, climbing into the sleeping bag and closing his eyes. He slept restlessly, but couldn’t remember any of his dreams, only that they were bad.

* * *

“I’m going to go check the perimeter,” Bucky announced over breakfast (instant oatmeal). Steve looked up. 

“I’ll go with you,” he said quickly. Bucky’s expression darkened, and Steve expected him to refuse outright. He braced himself to lay out arguments, but then Bucky’s expression just went blank and he shrugged. 

“Suit yourself.”

Steve glanced at Sam, and then at Loki, who hadn’t said a word yet this morning, picking absently at his food. Sam waved a hand. “Go ahead. We’ll hold down the fort.” 

He followed Bucky out, relieved that he at least didn’t seem to be trying to actively get away from Steve. He didn’t seem in a hurry to talk, either, but that gave Steve time to figure out what he wanted to say. 

“So,” he said finally, awkwardly. “I wanted to...talk about what you said.” 

“What I said,” Bucky said flatly. 

“Yesterday,” Steve said. “Back at the other house. About me trying to...fix you.” 

Bucky stopped and half turned. “What about it?” 

Steve took a deep breath. “I’m...sorry. I wasn’t trying to...make you feel like I wanted you to be a certain way, or saw you as...something I need to fix. But I guess I did. And that isn’t fair to you.” Bucky said nothing, still looking at him with that flat, inscrutable stare. Steve cleared his throat. “You’re not...the same person I knew. And that’s - that’s fine. I still want to help you get back on your feet, whatever that means, and maybe...maybe I could just try to get to know you. Who you are now.” 

Bucky just kept staring at him. Steve tried not to fidget. 

“How many times did you practice that,” he said. It sounded so much like Bucky - the _old_ Bucky - that Steve almost winced. He made himself smile. 

“Only a couple times in my head.”

Bucky didn’t smile back. He sighed and looked away. “I don’t know if that’ll work.” 

Steve’s heart sank. “What do you mean?” 

“I get it,” Bucky said. His metal hand flexed, open then closed. “I have the same face. I don’t know how I can expect you to look at me and see anything but...him. The war hero from the Smithsonian.” Steve heard something crack as Bucky rolled his shoulder. 

“If you believe that-” Steve swallowed. “If you believe that, why’d you come back?”

“I’m not sure I know.” 

“I can,” Steve said, almost desperately. “I can do it. I’ll figure it out.” 

“How?” Bucky asked, relentless. Steve shook his head. 

“Just - I’ll follow your lead. Let it be your call what you need, what you want from me.”

“And if I don’t want anything from you?” Bucky asked, his voice cold. Steve tried not to flinch. 

_Please don’t,_ he wanted to beg. _Please don’t cut me out, Buck. Let me help you. You’re wrong about yourself, about who you are._ He took a deep breath and made himself say, “then...then I guess that’s how it is.”

“All right,” Bucky said after a long, long pause. “We can give it a try.”

It wasn’t exactly a ringing endorsement. And it didn’t put them _close_ to where Steve wanted them to be. Still, he slumped, relieved. At least he’d said _one_ thing right. “Thank you,” he said. Bucky just grunted and set off again.

_It’s a start,_ Steve told himself. _It’ll get better._

He stayed quiet, just following along with Bucky as he made a slow circuit through the fields. Eventually Bucky cleared his throat. 

“Loki,” he said, to Steve’s surprise. “What’s his deal?” 

Steve blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-” Bucky twitched one shoulder. “I read about the attack. And I remember - seeing him once, when HYDRA was doing their tests. And apparently he’s blue, for some reason. But other than that…”

“I don’t know much more,” Steve said slowly. 

“You mentioned a brother,” Bucky said. “Thor.” 

_Didn’t exactly come looking, either._ “Yeah,” Steve said. “Adopted brother. He...fought against Loki when he attacked.”

“And then took off to space after. Is he coming back?”

“I assume so,” Steve said. “I don’t know when, but...probably, at some point.” Bucky nodded, seeming to be thinking. 

“You know what I think?” He said abruptly, stopping and turning. Steve stopped as well, nervously. “I think that HYDRA doesn’t waste resources, and he was a valuable resource. They wouldn’t’ve locked him up to die if they hadn’t gotten at least most of what they wanted already.” 

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, a chill going through him. Bucky was right. HYDRA had had Loki for two years. They wouldn’t have just given up on two years of work. The compound they’d found Loki in had been cleared in a hurry, but it’d been cleared, and whatever knowledge they’d managed to extract was still out there. 

And that could be...anything. Healing, strength, even magic.

“That could be...really bad news.” 

“No, shit,” Bucky said. “Does Loki know what they were trying to do?” 

Steve shook his head. “I haven’t really asked. It didn’t seem...like a good idea.”

“Might have to rethink that policy,” Bucky said. “If HYDRA figures out how to make another one like him…”

Steve nodded, dread settling deep in his gut. He’d almost forgotten there was still a larger picture out there. The scepter, the doctor Loki’d mentioned, and now this.

With Natasha off the grid, Thor in Asgard, and Bruce who-knew-where, the only people he could maybe call for help were Tony and Clint, and he didn’t like the idea of introducing either of them to the situation with Bucky and Loki. For now...for now it looked like they were still on their own with a lot of problems and not a lot of allies.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Steve said finally. “That they wouldn’t have just...thank you for bringing it up. I’ll talk to Sam. And try to...find a way to ask Loki.” 

Bucky only acknowledged that with a shrug of one shoulder, and didn’t speak for the rest of the long circuit. 

* * *

While Steve could recognize that it was definitely a good thing - a _very_ good thing - that they’d moved, having the larger space was actually sort of nerve wracking. He’d gotten used to always knowing where both Loki and Bucky were, the guarantee that if something happened he’d know right away by virtue of proximity. It was all he could do not to constantly be roaming from room to room checking on their status. It didn’t help that Loki especially could move almost silently, so sometimes the first notice Steve had that he was nearby was when he turned around and actually _saw_ him. 

As for Bucky, after their conversation he seemed to have relaxed, at least by a given metric of ‘relaxed.’ Steve, for his part, made a concerted effort not to hover, watching the way he acted around him, double-checking every word…

It was exhausting. And miserable. 

And as for the other part of their conversation...every day Steve meant to sit Loki down and try to bring up the subject of what he knew about what HYDRA had been trying to do, but every time he thought about actually doing it he felt sick. 

_Should I tell you how they cut me open and reached inside and nothing they used was strong enough to keep me from feeling-_

What was he supposed to _say? So, Loki, during the two years of torture and experimentation did they, by any chance, ever tell you what it was they wanted?_

Yeah, he was sure that wouldn’t end badly at all. 

“Do you want to send him running for the hills?” Sam said bluntly when Steve broached the subject with him. “Or end up a pile of greasy ashes? Then go right ahead.” 

“We need to know,” Steve said weakly. “If that kind of research is out there, we should know.” 

“I don’t disagree in principle,” Sam said, “but the only thing you’re likely to get out of Loki, asking that kind of question, is a panic attack.”

Steve rubbed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said wearily. “Yeah, I know.” 

And then one morning he came downstairs and found Loki standing in front of the unusable stove - the real one, not the camp one, flexing his fingers with a look of intense concentration. He inhaled slowly, exhaled, and Steve’s eyes widened as faint wisps of green took shape around his hands and then washed across - no, _through -_ the stove. 

“What are you _doing?_ ” Steve demanded, alarmed. Loki jerked and whirled around, his hands half raised, and Steve lurched back, but the flickering green power was gone. 

“I was just-” Loki’s throat worked, his eyes skating sideways away from Steve. 

“That was magic, wasn’t it?” Steve asked. “What kind of magic? What did you do to the stove?” A wild part of him thought _rigged it to explode?_ even though he knew that didn’t actually make sense.

“Did you fix it?” 

Steve looked around at Bucky in surprise, but Bucky was looking past him at Loki. Loki’s eyes flicked back and forth between them. 

“I was...attempting as much,” he said finally, sounding almost reluctant. “The mechanisms are different from those I am familiar with.”

“Are you going to keel over now?” Bucky asked. Loki tensed, his lips pressing together. 

“No,” he said. “It was not...a large working.” Though, Steve noticed, he did look pale, and was holding onto the counter. “I don’t know if I was successful,” he added, a taut kind of nervousness creeping into his expression, like he expected to be scolded for that. 

“Let’s find out,” Bucky said. He walked toward the stove and Loki almost jumped out of the way; Bucky turned the knob to light one of the burners. For a moment nothing happened, and then flame whooshed out. All three of them started back, Loki looking almost as surprised himself. 

“Hey,” Bucky said after a brief pause. “Will you look at that. Working stove.” He turned it off again and looked toward Loki, who looked like he was torn between flinching and snarling. “Thanks,” Bucky said. 

Steve and Loki both stared at him. Steve couldn’t decide if he was more flabbergasted by Loki apparently just deciding to fix the stove - and _doing_ it - or Bucky’s reaction. 

Loki looked away first. “You are welcome,” he said, though it sounded more than a little hesitant. Bucky sort of twitched his chin in a nod. 

“Yeah,” Steve said after a moment. “Thank you. That’s...very helpful.” 

Loki’s expression when he looked at Steve was less ‘baffled’ than ‘wary.’ “It needed doing,” he said after a long pause. 

“Well, yes,” Steve said, “but that doesn’t mean anyone was expecting _you_ to do it.”

“To do what?” Sam asked, coming down the stairs. 

“Loki fixed the stove,” Bucky said before Steve could say anything. Sam came into the kitchen, his eyebrows up. 

“I didn’t know you were some kind of mechanical whiz,” he said to Loki, who looked more and more like he wanted to bolt. 

“Magic something-or-other,” Bucky said. “Useful for something other than killing HYDRA agents, I guess.” 

Loki’s expression of consternation had faded into a frown, like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was being mocked. At least he looked less like he was expecting to get hit. “It would be terribly limited if that was all I was able to use it for,” he said. Cautious, his eyes still flickering between the three of them. Bucky’s lips twitched though he didn’t actually smile.

“Well, cool,” Sam said, after a pause. “That’s great. Thanks.”

Loki was tense, almost rigid. “Yes,” he said. “Well. You’re welcome.”

Sam changed the subject to plans for grocery shopping. Steve went with it, though he could feel Loki staring, standing unmoving with a look on his face like he was trying to make new puzzle pieces fit together in his head. 

Bucky was watching Loki too, Steve realized. The look on his face wasn’t hostility, though - more...curiosity. It was a strangely open expression - not like almost everything else he’d seen from Bucky lately.

It took Steve a long minute to realize the uncomfortable squirming in his stomach was jealousy.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! And it's...almost 6k of people talking. So I hope that's what you're here for, because that's what _I'm_ here for! Or, basically. 
> 
> I'm still thrilled by all the response to this fic and everyone taking the time to leave comments and kudos and send me messages on Tumblr (which is [here](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com), for the curious). Thanks always to my beta, without whom very little of this would happen, and I would be generally a lot sadder. 
> 
> I promise I'll stop putting Steve through the emotional wringer at some point. But not this chapter!
> 
> It's okay, though. Everyone else is miserable too, except maybe Sam, who is mostly frustrated.

Loki expected the privacy to be a relief. At last, he had his own room, a place to hide, a _sanctuary_ where he would be, if not safe, then at least safer. He was still weak, still needed to rebuild his magic, and there was no one in this building he could trust with his vulnerability. 

_(You have been vulnerable all this time, and they have done nothing. Nothing but to help. Offer food and shelter.)_

They said there was no catch. Loki knew there was always a catch. He could not sense a lie, though, from either Sam or Rogers. What did it _mean?_

Lying on his back with his thoughts seething, Loki lay awake and stared at the ceiling, too aware of every sound. There was a window in one wall; someone could come through there. He’d seen two doors on the bottom floor, not to mention the windows there. Too many points of entry, and he caught himself straining for the sound of tires, or footsteps. The miasmic energy hung rotten in the air, thick and strangling. 

This room was too open. Too exposed. 

Loki’s eyes caught on a door in the ceiling and his heartbeat picked up. Someone could still be here. Hiding, waiting, _watching…_

He rolled quietly to his feet and reached up, finding the latch and pulling it open. There was a ladder that unfolded down to the floor, and Loki held his breath, listening. 

He could hear nothing, though. No attacker leaped from the shadows. 

Slowly, he climbed up the ladder. Above was a small space - barely high enough for him to crouch, perhaps half again the length of his body. Loki looked at the small opening, climbed back down, and brought the bedroll he’d been given up into the ceiling. 

Stretched out there, his heels almost brushing the ceiling where it slanted down, Loki’s heartbeat finally began to slow. He pulled the ladder up after him and closed the door. Closing his eyes, he focused on breathing. 

At some point, he slept. 

* * *

Sam took off for the grocery store, leaving Steve, Bucky, and Loki in the house. Loki still seemed like he couldn’t decide whether to be wary, confused, or pleased about the reaction to his fixing the stove, but what he ended up settling on was apparently ‘exhausted’ - he sat down on the couch and was asleep in seconds. 

Bucky frowned at him, eyebrows furrowing. “You think he’s okay?” He asked. 

“I’m...not sure,” Steve said. It looked like his assessment of Loki’s condition - that he was still more fragile than he wanted to show - had been spot on. “I guess all we can do is keep an eye on him.”

Bucky grunted like he wasn’t satisfied with that answer, but he stayed hovering around the living room the whole time Sam was gone. Steve occupied himself by tackling cleaning the kitchen while he tried to figure out what the hell he was jealous _of._ If Bucky was warming up to Loki even a little that could only be a good thing. Was he really going to _envy_ Loki for - what? Getting Bucky excited about something? Being able to do something _useful?_

Was he really that much of an ass?

Steve finished scrubbing the counter - at least as well as he was going to be able to for now - and went back out to check on Loki. He was still asleep, and a little pale, but he didn’t seem to be crashing the way he had before. Steve wondered idly if Loki himself had any idea of his limits, or was just guessing. Maybe he should try to figure out a way to say something. 

“Have you asked him yet?” Bucky asked abruptly. “About what they were trying to do?”

“No,” Steve said. “Buck - I can’t. You’ve gotta understand that. Bringing that up now...he’ll just snap. Even if that doesn’t turn violent it won’t go well. We need to wait.”

“Do you really think time will change that?” Bucky asked, his voice sharpening a little. “Give it a couple months and it’ll just go away?”

Steve’s teeth clenched and he felt a sudden flash of anger: _I’m not stupid, I know it won’t. You’re not the only one who’s suffered,_ but of course everything he’d gone through was nothing, _nothing,_ to what Bucky had. Or Loki. He didn’t deserve to complain. 

“I know it won’t,” Steve said. “But at least it might get _better._ ”

Bucky sighed heavily and looked away, but he didn’t argue further. Loki twitched and inhaled sharply and for a moment Steve thought he was waking up, but he just shifted and subsided back into sleep. 

“I’m going for a run,” Bucky announced abruptly. 

Steve opened his mouth to ask if he was okay, closed it, and just said, “okay.” He waited until the front door closed behind him to sit down on a dilapidated armchair and rub his eyes. 

He heard Loki stir again and make a quiet whimpering noise and lifted his head. Loki was twitching, his body giving little jerks, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together. Steve hesitated, but when Loki yelped like a kicked dog he shoved himself up and over, remembering just in time not to grab him or shake him. 

“Loki,” he said. “Loki, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”

Loki jerked again with a shuddering, pained-sounding gasp. “Loki,” Steve said more loudly. “ _Hey._ It’s just a nightmare. Wake up.” 

Loki’s eyes opened and for a moment he looked disoriented, confused; he flinched back from Steve who drew away quickly to give him space. His eyes cleared quickly, though, and skated away, plainly embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” Steve said, feeling the need to apologize. “I thought…” He trailed off. 

“No,” Loki said after a moment. “Thank you.” He still looked and sounded groggy. Steve wondered if offering him coffee would be a bad idea. 

Steve shrugged. “It’s nothing. Are you all right? Seemed like you sort of passed out after…”

“Fine,” Loki said, of course. Steve wasn’t sure why he’d bothered asking. “Just a little...tired. It is necessary, if I ever want…” He trailed off with a quick flick of his eyes away from Steve. If he ever wanted his magic back, Steve filled in, and while the idea made him uneasy…

“What’s it like?” He asked impulsively. Loki gave him a blank look and Steve made a vague gesture. “Having...magic.” Loki’s expression flickered, and Steve quickly added, “I’m just wondering. I didn’t even know there was such a thing until you...showed up.” He suddenly wondered if it was a mistake to refer to that, the time before when Loki had been an aggressor trying to kill Steve, the events that had led to his imprisonment. 

Loki twitched slightly, but transformed the gesture into a shrug of one shoulder. “That is a rather broad question.”

“I wouldn’t know how to narrow it down,” Steve said honestly. “Is it...you said it’s always there, even when you can’t...use it. Is it like...what does it feel like?” 

Loki studied him sidelong and at length turned slightly back toward him. “How would you explain what it is like to see to someone blind?” He said. “It is - like that. Another sense. Using it, the world comes alive. It sings. Magic underlies everything, the hidden threads stitching the universe together, the beating heart of the World Tree. It is the most magnificent thing there is. There is a reason uncautious mages burn themselves out so often: to embrace that power without restraint is ecstasy.” 

When Loki began his voice was quiet, subdued, but as he went on it gained in confidence, and by the end there was something powerful, almost lyrical, in the way he spoke. His expression changed, too, opening slightly, his eyes lightening, losing the dull sheen of exhaustion and wariness. Steve blinked, for a moment startled out of responding. 

“Wow,” he said finally. “You make it sound...pretty amazing.”

As suddenly as that, the door slammed closed. Loki’s eyes shuttered and that brief glimpse of near happiness vanished. “It is,” he said simply. Steve floundered, wondering what he’d said wrong, but he saw a chance. 

“Could someone...become capable of using magic? If they weren’t before? Learn it?” 

Loki shrugged. “Some do. Certain kinds of spellcraft can be taught. Others require the innate ability.” 

“And what you do...that’s innate?” 

Loki looked at him, suddenly quiet. “Are you asking because you wish to know if your enemies might have found a way to co-opt my power?” He said. Steve opened his mouth to deny it, then caught himself. 

“I was...wondering if it would be possible, yes.” 

Loki looked suddenly tired. “I see,” he said, glancing away. “The answer is no. Not without me physically present, and even then it was...costly. An attempt was made. Or I suspect that is what they were trying to do. But you cannot _create_ the gift for magecraft where it does not exist.”

_An attempt was made._ Steve didn’t think he wanted to know what that meant. He noticed that Loki’s hands were folded together, seemingly carefully, but his knuckles were white. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “To bring it up. I know...you can’t want to think about it.” 

Loki made a funny sort of noise. “I can think about little else,” he said tonelessly, but then jerked his head to the side and said, “you made an attempt to come at it gently. It was...considerate of you.” 

Steve hesitated. “I didn’t start asking because of that,” he said, not sure why it seemed important to say. “I was...I am curious. About magic in general.” Loki cast him a narrow-eyed, dubious look. “I mean it,” Steve said defensively. 

“I know well it would be easier for you if I never fully recover my abilities,” Loki said. He didn’t sound angry, just resigned. Steve bit the inside of his cheek. 

“If you’re not planning on using them against us, that doesn’t have to be true.” Loki was silent, and Steve’s heart sank. 

“I do not,” Loki said finally. “I owe a life-debt to you and...Sam.” He said Sam’s name like he didn’t quite think he was allowed. “I am not interested in...I am tired.” He sounded tired. Sounded _beaten._

It seemed like that shouldn’t make Steve feel as unhappy as it did. He shifted. 

“I hope...you don’t think I find any kind of schadenfreude in...this. Your situation.” 

Loki’s eyebrows twitched up just a fraction. “None at all?”

“No,” Steve said immediately, trying not to feel stung. “I told you, I’d never have…” But he was beginning to appreciate just how little words meant to Loki. Plenty of other people, too, might say that ignorance was no excuse, and maybe they’d be right. Loki shrugged one shoulder. 

“I can appreciate the irony. I compared you to ants beneath my feet. And yet in the end-” One corner of his mouth quirked mirthlessly upward. “It was you who crushed me.”

Steve felt vaguely ill. He knew - or hoped - that _you_ was more general than specific. A part of him wanted to protest that Loki wasn’t _crushed,_ but his own words to Sharon haunted him. He doubted Loki would appreciate false optimism. 

“I don’t take _any_ kind of satisfaction in what happened to you,” Steve said, trying to sound forceful. “You might’ve been my enemy, but that doesn’t excuse anything they did.” He hesitated, and added, “and...if SHIELD were still standing, I’d find a way to hold them accountable, too.” 

Loki looked at him with a faintly surprised expression, but before he said anything Bucky came back in. He glanced back and forth between them and then said to Loki, “you’re up.”

“Evidently,” Loki said after a beat, voice wary. 

“You going to get sick again?” He asked. A faintly peeved expression crossed Loki’s face that almost made Steve want to smile. 

“No,” he said. Bucky nodded, an odd expression on his face. 

“Good,” he said. “That’s good.” Loki stared at him, and Steve could feel himself staring too. “I’m going to take a shower,” Bucky announced, and went up the stairs. 

Loki looked at Steve. “What is he playing at?” 

Steve blinked. “What?” 

“Your friend,” Loki said. “What is he playing at? Why play at this false concern?”

Steve was stung on Bucky’s behalf. “Why does it have to be false?” Loki gave him an incredulous look. “I’m serious. Maybe he’s changed his mind about you. If it weren’t for you we would’ve had a whole lot more trouble with those HYDRA agents. Maybe he’s just seen that you’re not the monster he thought you were.” And if that was maybe a little bit pointed - _and he isn’t the monster you think he is, either -_ Steve honestly hoped Loki picked up on it. 

For some reason, Loki flinched. “That seems doubtful.” 

“You would think so,” Steve said with some irritation. “You think anyone doing _anything_ nice is some kind of trap.” 

Loki’s face tightened. “That’s because it usually is.” 

Steve stared at Loki. He’d known that was how he thought before, but hearing it stated that baldly was a little different. He tried to put himself in those shoes, thinking every kindness hid some kind of danger, that everyone who reached out was holding a knife in their other hand.

He rubbed his forehead. “You can’t have always thought like that.”

“Can’t I?” Loki said. Steve waited, and he looked away. “Perhaps not. Experience taught me better.” 

“Experience,” Steve echoed. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing HYDRA would’ve done - psychological torture like that - but he supposed it wasn’t out of the question. Loki’s expression had shuttered, though, closing down completely. 

Steve pushed his hand through his hair with a sigh. “Okay, but...that’s not how everyone is. Not me, not Sam, and not Bucky, anyway.” He couldn’t imagine Thor was, either, but that didn’t seem like something he should bring up. Loki said nothing, and Steve shook his head and stood up. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said after another moment, and went upstairs after Bucky.

The bedroom door was ajar, but Steve knocked on it anyway. Bucky opened it wearing jeans but no t-shirt, and Steve’s eyes went immediately to the scar tissue where his metal arm joined his body, ugly and extensive, and he couldn’t help imagining what it felt like. 

“What,” Bucky said. 

“Uh,” Steve said, trying to pull his eyes away. Bucky seemed to realize what he was looking out and made a noise.

“For Christ’s sake,” he said, and retreated, yanking on a shirt, but not before Steve got a look at his back too, marked with more of the same. He felt sick. Bucky turned around and Steve tried to control his expression. “Better?” 

“Sorry,” Steve said. _Does it still hurt,_ he wanted to ask, but held back. “I was just coming up to…” check on you. But that wasn’t something he could say, not anymore. “...to tell you that I talked to Loki and he said HYDRA couldn’t get access to his magic. So at least...at least we don’t have to worry about that.” 

Bucky looked at him for a long moment like he was reading Steve’s thoughts. “I guess that’s good news.” 

“Definitely, I’d say.” Steve offered a tentative half smile. “That’s one of the things we’re least able to combat.”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “Was there anything else?” He said a little pointedly. 

Steve tried to think of something, anything else he could say to Bucky, but came up blank. “No,” he said reluctantly. “That was...that was all.” He retreated, reminding himself that he needed to give Bucky time. Maybe Bucky was even testing him, to see if he’s meant what he said. 

Still, between Loki’s exhausted resignation and Bucky’s aloof distance, he wasn’t exactly feeling at his most hopeful. 

He went outside and sat on the porch to wait for Sam to come back. 

* * *

“Are you on time out or what,” Sam said, walking toward Steve holding two heavy-looking bags of groceries. 

“No,” Steve said. “Just...taking a break.” 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “You? A break? I haven’t seen any flying pigs lately.” 

Steve sighed. “Not like I’m doing much good in there.” He jerked his head at the front door. “While you were gone I managed to get Loki’s hackles up _and_ piss off Bucky within five minutes of each other.” 

“That’s not exactly hard to do,” Sam said. He set the bags down. “You want to stop moping and bring these bags inside?”

Steve felt a twinge of annoyance. “I’m not _moping._ ” 

Sam paused, then walked over and sat next to him. “All right,” he said. “Maybe you’re not. I get it. Shit’s hard right now and you’re floundering. But it seems to me the only way to get out of that is to keep going. And stop thinking you can fix anything in a day. You’re not a miracle-worker, Steve, much as you want to be one.” 

Steve dropped his head forward and closed his eyes. “I know. It’d just be nice to feel like I was doing _something._ ”

“You are,” Sam said. “You’re helping me bring these groceries inside. And tomorrow you’re going to go get supplies so we can start putting this place back together. Loki’ll get over whatever you did and Bucky’s as moody as New England weather. It’ll be fine.” He half smiled. “Maybe some of the fancy organic food I splurged on will help the former, at least.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. “You’re a good friend, Sam.” 

“Sure am,” Sam said, standing up. He pointed at the bags. “Take those. But then come back. I have five more in the car.”

Steve obediently brought the bags inside and helped store the groceries under Sam’s direction. “Should we be expecting Sharon to drop by?” He asked, wiping out the drawers of the fridge before stashing the oranges and apples Sam had gotten. 

“I’m guessing if she’s going to, she’ll call ahead,” he said. “She’s not stupid. She wouldn’t walk into a volatile situation blind.” He paused. “But I’d bet she’ll wait a little longer. Give us time to get our feet planted, settled in.”

That seemed a long way off to Steve, but he didn’t say so, just nodded. Bucky wandered in while they were putting away the last groceries.

“We need to find the weapons cache,” he said, apropos of nothing. 

Sam glanced at Steve, eyebrows raised, and then looked back at Bucky. “Sorry, what?” 

“The weapons cache,” Bucky said, with exaggerated slowness. “All of _their_ bases had one. Just in case.” Steve didn’t ask who _they_ was. 

“This place wasn’t actually HYDRA’s,” Steve said after a moment. “We don’t know that they’d do the same thing.” 

“I’d bet on it,” Bucky said. His jaw set. “We should at least look for it. When someone tracks us down I want to be ready.” 

“He might have a point,” Sam said, though his eyes were narrowed in Bucky’s direction. “Even if they weren’t HYDRA, paranoid survivalists are the same everywhere, and if SHIELD was in a hurry to cover up what happened they might not have done a thorough sweep.”

Steve hesitated. He didn’t much like the idea of having a cache of weapons readily available, but he remembered his conversation with Sam - and pushing back would probably just make Bucky think Steve didn’t trust him. He pushed his worries down and nodded slowly. 

“I guess it can’t hurt to look.”

Something like satisfaction flickered across Bucky’s face, though it was gone quickly. Steve wondered if he’d just passed some kind of test. 

The idea made him twitch, but at least he’d _passed._

“Look for what?” Steve jumped. 

He hadn’t heard Loki make a sound; he was just there, suddenly, like he’d materialized from nowhere.

“Weaponry,” Bucky said, before either Steve or Sam could respond. “There might be some kind of cache on the property.” He scrutinized Loki. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever used a gun.” 

One of Loki’s eyes twitched. “No.”

“Hm.” Bucky’s lips twisted and for a second Steve thought he was going to offer to _teach_ Loki, but then he just said, “and is your magic thing going to come back anytime soon?” 

Loki’s eye twitched again, the rest of his expression flattening. Steve winced. “I don’t know.” 

“What else do you use? Knives?” 

“Oh boy,” Sam said. Bucky didn’t even glance at him.

“Yes,” Loki said even more tightly. “And I am _very good_ with them.” 

“Maybe this _isn’t_ a line of conversation we should pursue,” Sam said. Bucky shrugged one shoulder. 

“I’m just asking questions.”

Loki’s lip curled. “So you are not trying to ascertain my weaknesses?”

“No,” Bucky said. “Actually, I’m not. You might be half-crazy and a loose cannon, but you’re apparently good at killing HYDRA.”

Loki tensed, coiling like a snake about to strike, and Steve hurried to get between the two of them. The air was practically vibrating. “He didn’t mean that,” Steve said quickly. 

“I didn’t?” Bucky said. “It’s nothing he doesn’t already know.” 

“Not very diplomatic to say so, though,” Sam said under his breath. Loki didn’t relax, just stared like he could see through Steve to Bucky. 

“Mad I might be, but I am not your _tool,_ ” Loki said, almost a snarl. 

“I didn’t say you were,” Bucky said. “It’s called _allies,_ and seems to me you could use all those you can get if you don’t want to get dragged back to hell.”

A shudder ran through Loki’s body and for a moment he looked like he was going to lunge, but then he shifted back slightly. It wasn’t exactly relaxing, but he looked a little less like he was on the verge of murder.

“I see,” he said coolly. 

“Okay,” Sam said, his voice tight. “Are we done?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said after a beat. “Guess we are.” He turned and headed for the stairs, the set of his shoulders tight and unhappy. After staring after him for a moment, Loki made a noise in the back of his throat and then headed out the back door. Steve let him go and turned to look helplessly at Sam.

“That went predictably horribly,” Sam said. “Though I guess it could’ve been worse.”

“That’s basically been the day,” Steve said heavily, but he shook himself. “Sorry. I know, stop moping.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” He quirked an eyebrow. “If you need a break you can take one. I can manage for an hour or two.” 

“I think I’m going to go talk to Bucky,” Steve said. “Maybe ask...I don’t know. Where we should start looking.” 

“Suit yourself,” Sam said. “I’ll be down here. Don’t get strangled.” 

Steve smiled weakly and climbed the stairs, knocking on Bucky’s door. 

“It’s me,” he said. “Can I come in?” 

Bucky opened it a moment later and looked at him, expression closed off. “What?” 

“What?” Steve said. “I just...you left in a hurry.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“I didn’t think you weren’t,” Steve said quickly. “I just figured...I don’t know. You might want company. If you don’t...that’s fine, I was just-”

Bucky’s expression twitched a little. “You sound ridiculous,” he said, and it was that brief flash again, like the Bucky he’d known before. Steve pushed the memory - and the pang that came with it - away. “All right, sure. Come in.” He opened the door a little wider and stepped back. Steve tried not to stare - it wasn’t like there was much to look at, but he felt almost desperate for some clue, some _hint_ that would give him the key to knowing what he was supposed to do. 

“Nice place,” he said, trying on a wry smile. Bucky snorted. 

“Thanks. I’d offer you a beer but I’m fresh out.” 

“I’ll live.” Steve wished there was a chair, somewhere to sit down so he wasn’t just...awkwardly standing. 

“I wasn’t trying to be an asshole,” Bucky said abruptly. Steve blinked at him. “Downstairs. With him. Loki.”

“You don’t need to explain…”

“I do.” Bucky’s eyes were suddenly intense. “Someone’s going to come for us and we have to be ready. In terms of raw power he’s the strongest one here, right? Even if he is crazy. We _need_ to find a way to work with him. I was _trying_ to-” He stopped, breaking off abruptly, staring at one corner. Steve shifted. 

“Trying to what?” 

“I don’t know. Doesn’t matter.” Bucky’s voice was tight. 

“You were trying to reach out,” Steve said slowly. “You’ve been trying.” It...hurt, having that confirmation. That Bucky was more willing to make overtures to Loki than to let Steve in. 

“It’s practical,” Bucky said. “And it’s not working, besides. So.” He glared at the corner even harder. 

“He’s just...wary,” Steve made himself say. “And it’s not just you. He doesn’t trust any of us.” Bucky said nothing. “It’s...good of you,” Steve added. “Even just for trying.” 

“Like I said,” Bucky said, almost defensive, “it’s practical.” He turned his head just enough to look at Steve sidelong. “I don’t trust him either.”

_Do you trust me?_ Steve thought, but he didn’t want to ask. “You don’t have to.” 

Bucky gave him a sharp look. “I don’t need permission.” 

“No,” Steve said quickly. “I know you don’t, I just meant - it makes sense, I wasn’t sure if you were doubting that…”

There was that little flicker around Bucky’s mouth again. “I’m fucking with you.”

Steve blinked at him, and then laughed, a little shakily. “Oh. Right.” He paused. “About the cache...we can start looking tomorrow. I’ll follow your lead if you have ideas of where to look.” 

“Yeah,” Bucky said, his face closing off again. “I have some ideas.”

* * *

The rest of the day went...surprisingly well. They sat down for dinner together in a bizarre sort of domestic scene; Steve noted with some sense of accomplishment that Loki actually finished his food and didn’t seem displeased, and while Bucky wasn’t talkative he wasn’t hostile and closed off either. There wasn’t a whole lot of conversation, but that also meant there wasn’t a whole lot of tension and argument, though Loki seemed distracted. 

“So, no zombies yet, yeah?” Sam said, half teasing. Loki glanced at him, frowning. 

“Zombies?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “People who die and then rise out of their graves. I’ve read about that.” Sam looked faintly surprised. “ _Terror Tales_ , “The Zombie Master,”” Bucky said. “I snuck a copy past…” He trailed off, face freezing. Steve had to keep from leaning forward. It was the first time he could remember Bucky mentioning anything specific about their past other than the detail about Steve’s shoes - the first time Bucky had mentioned something about _himself._

Proof that he wasn’t as disconnected from the Bucky Steve knew as he wanted to say. 

“Not _zombies,_ ” Loki said. “ _Draugr._ ” Apparently unaware of the shift in ambience, though Steve doubted he really was. 

“What’s the difference?” Sam asked. “Seems like different names for the same thing. Except one is apparently real and the other one isn’t. Probably.”

Loki’s expression twitched. “That seems a fairly significant difference.” His tone of voice, flat and faintly irritated, didn’t invite further questions. Steve’s eyes strayed back to Bucky, who was staring down at his plate. 

Steve wanted to push. Wanted to talk about the pulpy sci-fi Bucky had read about Martians and flying saucers. But he kept his mouth shut, scared he’d only make Bucky upset. It was possible, he told himself, that Bucky had only just remembered, and that he’d keep remembering more over time. Then maybe…

Steve shoved that down. _Let it go._

The conversation pretty much died after that, and they dispersed shortly afterward - or at least Loki and Bucky did, Steve hoped to sleep. Though then he thought again of Loki crammed into the ceiling and felt a pang. 

Sam gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Another day and everyone lived through it. Take your wins where you can get them. Dishes are all yours.” 

He left too. Steve got up and started washing, trying to take what Sam said to heart. _Take your wins where you can get them._

With the dishes washed he trooped up to try to sleep, but mostly just lay there staring up at the ceiling. 

He could only take so much of that before giving up and going back downstairs with some vague idea of trying to do something useful. It was a bright half moon, illuminating the figure sitting on the porch, bent over with his head resting on his knees. Steve moved over slowly and opened the door. His skin prickled with the nighttime chill. Loki’s shoulders tensed but he didn’t uncurl.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked.

“No,” Loki said. His voice sounded raspy. “Nothing is. But that is no change.” 

Steve bit the inside of his cheek, not sure what reply to make to that. “Does it...help? Being out here?” He asked eventually. 

“I do not know.” Loki was quiet for a long moment. “You cannot see the stars, here.” 

“You usually should, this far away from D.C.,” Steve said. “Must be a cloudy night.”

“Ah.” Loki lifted his head slowly to rest his chin on his knees, still staring straight ahead. Steve shifted. 

“Can I...do anything?” 

“No.” The word was final, but not harsh. Just a statement of fact. 

“You said…” Steve cleared his throat. “You said, back at the other house, that you wished that...that you’d been executed.”

Loki’s expression was impossible to read. “I did say that.” 

“Do you still feel that way?” 

Loki turned his head fractionally, one eyebrow lifted with an ironic tilt. “Are you asking if I intend to kill myself?” Steve managed not to wince, and just waited. “I do not, if that is your concern. At least not at the moment.” His expression hardened. “That said...if it comes to it I will cut my own throat before anyone takes me captive again.” 

Steve felt a chill down his spine. He noticed that it wasn’t _if HYDRA takes me captive_ , and wondered what Loki would do if Thor, or someone else from Asgard, came to take him away. He remembered Loki’s fingers digging into his arm, pleading: _Promise me if I cannot do it, you will._ “That won’t happen.” 

“It is not entirely within your power.” Loki’s head turned back so Steve could only just see his profile. 

“I’m saying I’ll protect you,” Steve said, some frustration leaking into his voice. Just _once,_ couldn’t someone take him at his word? “I’m not helpless. I’m actually pretty damn good at that. It’s kind of what I _do._ ” _Is it?_ Whispered the nasty voice in the back of his head. _Are you? Who have you managed to protect when it mattered?_

He pushed that away. 

“You are doing it again,” Loki said calmly. Steve frowned at him. 

“Doing what?” 

“Using me as a proxy to atone for your guilt about what happened to your friend.” 

Steve jerked, his stomach tightening. “I’m not,” he said, his voice hard. “That isn’t - stop assuming you know what I’m thinking. You don’t know anything about me.”

“Thanks to Agent Barton, I know more than you might think.” 

Steve knew when he was being baited, but it still worked. Made him want to demand how Loki could be so cavalier about what he’d done, if he felt guilty at all, if he regretted it or just the way it’d ended. 

“If you want me to stop talking,” he said flatly, “you can just tell me to leave.” He turned on his heel and went back inside. 

He never did manage to get back to sleep.

* * *

When Steve got up early the next morning, the living room looked like it had been cleaned, but there was no one else awake. Or at least no one else downstairs. He wondered if it was Loki’s doing; some kind of non-apology for making Steve angry. 

Or maybe he’d just needed something to do instead of sleeping. Like Steve should’ve done, instead of retreating to his room and sulking. 

He made himself some oatmeal and sat down to eat it, waiting for the others to emerge. Sam came out first, yawning. 

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” he said.

“Thanks,” Steve said dryly. “I appreciate that.” 

“You’re welcome.” Sam stretched and went over to get his own oatmeal. “ _I_ slept like a log. It was great.”

“You are a total ass,” Steve said. Sam just laughed.

Bucky wandered down about an hour later. Steve caught the _sleep well?_ before it came out of his mouth; he hoped that had been the case, but he wasn’t going to assume. Unfortunately, that just meant awkward silence greeted Bucky’s arrival. 

“Don’t let me break up the party,” he drawled after a moment. Steve’s chest warmed, simultaneously embarrassed and pleased: it was a touch again of the old Bucky. Dryer, sure, but still almost…

_Stop it. Stop looking for signs._

“Where’s Loki?” Bucky asked, glancing around the kitchen. 

“Still in his room, I assume,” Steve said. Sleeping, he hoped. Bucky seemed satisfied with that answer and pulled up a chair. 

“I’ve been thinking about where we should look,” he said without further preamble. “The obvious place is the barn, which means it was probably the first place to get cleared out. I think we should sweep it anyway.”

Steve almost froze. In all the rush, he’d completely forgotten about sealing the door. “Right,” he said, before he could delay too long. “I can do that.” He hoped he hadn’t said it too quickly. “Sam and I already did a sweep, but I can look again, see if I missed anything.” 

“Sure,” Bucky said. He didn’t seem to notice anything odd, to Steve’s relief. “Besides, it’s more likely they wouldn’t bury anything in such an obvious location. It’s more likely to be somewhere on the rest of the property.” 

“Somewhere,” Sam said. “Somewhere like where?”

Bucky shrugged. “There are a lot of possibilities.” He looked at Steve. “What do you know about what Loki can do?” 

Steve hesitated, but his eyes flicked quickly past Bucky to where Loki was standing in the doorway. “Very little,” Loki said, his eyes fixing on Steve’s only briefly before they moved to Bucky. “Why am I being discussed?” 

His voice was quiet but there was a tense, edgy note to it. Bucky glanced at him.

“Just wondering if you knew anything about a way to find shit underground. Like weapons caches.” 

“I might,” Loki said after a long pause, voice painstakingly neutral. 

“Might,” Bucky asked, “or do?”

“Might.” Loki glanced at the empty chair and after a moment took it. “Theoretically it is possible. But I…” His lips twisted. “I do not know precisely what my limits are right now.” 

Sam leaned forward. “Can’t you just stop if it feels like you’re going to hit that point?” 

Loki looked like he wanted to sneer. “It doesn’t work like that. The magic itself masks the feeling of exhaustion, and it is a very thin line to cross. Misjudge an inch and the consequences can be drastic. As you saw.” One of his shoulders twitched. 

Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Sounds dangerous.” 

“It is,” Loki said, but for just a moment Steve glimpsed an expression of intense longing on Loki’s face before he swept it away. 

Bucky looked disappointed. “So that won’t work.” 

“I didn’t say that.” Loki was watching Bucky sidelong, hands fidgeting in his lap. “I am willing to try. But I make no promises about how much I can do.” Silence followed, all of them staring at him, and one corner of his lips twisted up. “You weren’t wrong,” he said, turning more fully to Bucky. “I do need allies. I might not like it, but beggars cannot be choosers.”

It wasn’t exactly an endorsement, but Steve wondered almost hopefully if something he’d said the night before had actually gotten through to Loki.

“Great,” Sam said after a moment. “Cool. So...what, are we setting up a grid or something? And what exactly are we looking for?” 

Steve saw his chance. “HYDRA’s always been interested in special weapons,” Steve said, deliberately not looking at Loki. “Do you think we’ll find anything like that here?” 

“Doubt it,” Bucky said. “Like you keep reminding me, this place wasn’t _technically_ HYDRA affiliated.” He paused. “Or so Carter said. If she’s wrong…”

“Should I ask what you mean by ‘special weapons’?” Sam asked dryly. 

“Alien,” Steve said. “That’s...during the war they were making weapons using the Tesseract.” Just like SHIELD had tried to do less than a century later. Apparently HYDRA had never really stopped. “Who knows what else they might’ve found since?” He glanced at Loki, but he said nothing, eyes directed downward. “Do you know what kind of things might’ve ended up on Earth?” he asked. 

Loki glanced up through his eyelashes. “No. There is no way of knowing what may have drifted here over the centuries.”

“People from Asgard have visited before, right?” Steve asked carefully. “Would they have left anything?” 

“Perhaps.” Loki’s voice was flat, carefully neutral. “I was surprised to learn the Tesseract was kept here. I would have expected-” 

He cut off, expression tightening. 

“Would have expected what?” Bucky said. Loki didn’t look at him. 

“That the All-Father would want it kept under his thumb,” Loki said finally, his voice even flatter. “That is usually how he prefers to treat his...powerful artifacts.” There was something dark under the words, but Steve didn’t know what it was.

“Like the scepter?” Steve asked, trying not to sound too intent. Sam looked at him sharply; Bucky just narrowed his eyes, and Steve realized he might not know about it.

“I suppose.” He could see Loki closing in on himself, but if he could just find out what that thing was, what it could do...

“Steve,” Sam said, his voice taut. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

Steve glanced at Loki, stiff as a board, and nodded. “Sure.”

“Do I have your permission to go for a walk?” Loki asked, the edge on his voice sharp enough to cut. 

“Go ahead,” Steve said. “Do what you want.” 

Sam grabbed Steve’s arm and dragged him out onto the front steps. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, and he sounded legitimately angry. 

“I’m trying to get him to _talk._ ”

“No you’re not,” Sam said. “You’re _just_ this side of an interrogation, and you’re not being _nearly_ subtle enough for Loki not to know exactly what that is. You’re pushing very, _very_ close to a dangerous line - the _exact_ one I keep _telling_ you not to cross.”

Steve felt a spark of frustration. “Isn’t it supposed to be _good_ for people to talk? Isn’t that what you do at work?” 

“No,” Sam said. “The VA gives people a space where they _can_ talk. On their own time, at their own pace. Not forcing the issue.”

“So, what,” Steve said. “I’m just supposed to do nothing? Leave Bucky alone, leave Loki alone, keep my mouth shut and just - hope for the best?” 

“Don’t pretend this is completely altruistic, either,” Sam said. “You’re feeling helpless, I get that. But what are you hoping to get out of Loki that will change that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve said, frustrated. “Bucky’s right - we should know what HYDRA is up to, what kind of new weapons they might have. Even if Loki’s magic is off limits, what about his healing factor, or strength? Or what if they figure out how to use the scepter?”

“And if we do get that information? What are we going to do with it? Are you proposing going off on your own, or are you planning on taking the two traumatized disasters along with you? And if you were thinking of calling someone in, how would you explain where you got the intel?”

“There’s Sharon,” Steve said. “And you,” but what _would_ he do with Loki and Bucky? He didn’t feel great about the prospect of leaving them alone, let alone leaving them alone together even with their seeming truce. And he could imagine how thrilled Bucky would be about the idea. 

Sam shook his head. “And Steve - even forgetting about what that kind of interrogation - and it _would_ be an interrogation - would do to Loki’s recovery, I feel the need to remind you that the last time something triggered Loki there were piles of ash on the floor. All it takes is one little slip into thinking you’re HYDRA and you are toast. Literally.” 

“I know,” Steve said. “But what if other people are in danger because I’m-”

A jagged sounding scream came from behind them. Steve whirled around and looked at the house, but-

“The barn,” Sam said, his eyes widening. Steve ran for it, Sam hot on his heels. 

He burst through the front door.

Loki was sitting with his back pressed against one of the walls, curled into a ball and breathing fast and hard. Bucky was standing a few feet away, and for a second Steve thought something had happened between them - Bucky had said something, or Loki had done something - but then he realized what Bucky was standing next to. 

An open trapdoor with stairs leading down. 

And the look on Bucky’s face…

Rage. Pure, and simple, and cold. 

“What the hell,” he snarled, “is this.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger! (Sort of. Not really.) At least I'm resolving it quickly?
> 
> Fun chapter. And by that I mean "full of a lot of feelings and also plot, a little". Not a lot to say here at the moment except thank you to everyone reading and reviewing: I'm glad you're enjoying reading this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it. 
> 
> Always, always thanks to my beta, [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), who not only edits thousands of words but also tells me nice things about them.
> 
> Oh yeah: warnings for this chapter for more vivid description of torture than previously. Just a heads up.

_“They’re hiding something,” Barnes said. “There’s something about the barn. Steve’s a shit liar.”_

_Loki stopped on the threshold of the back door. “Hiding something,” he echoed. “Like what?”_

His head was swimming, full of fog. His eyesight was blurry but the light glared in his eyes even when he closed them. He tried to turn his head but it was locked in place, he was locked in place; he tried to struggle, but his body wouldn’t respond, and even the panic felt dulled, weakened.

_Thor will come for me,_ he thought dizzily. _Thor will…_

Something was wrong with that thought. He couldn’t remember what.

_The barn looked innocuous enough. Empty. The two of them prowled through it. “Hey,” Barnes said abruptly. “There’s something here.” Loki went over and looked at the door set in the floor. “It was covered over, but everything was recently moved.”_

_“Well, then,” Loki said, ignoring the nervous thrumming of his heart. “Should we see what’s inside?”_

They started gently, taking samples of blood and skin and hair, measuring, recording, the low murmur of their voices moving in and out of hearing. They didn’t talk to him. Sometimes the fog almost cleared and he could think again; then it would roll back over him and he would lose all of it again.

One of the clearer times, he registered a man bending over him, studying him with a look on his face that Loki recognized: hungry curiosity.

“Can he understand me?” The man asked. Loki’s tongue felt too heavy in his mouth to answer, but his lips peeled back from his teeth. “Fascinating,” the man said. “How high a dose is he on?”

The world blurred out again, but he heard the man say, “give me one of those scalpels.”

“Yes, Doctor List,” said another voice.

“--search for volunteers...more failures…”

There was pain, but he couldn’t find the strength to scream.

_The door opened with a single tug from Barnes’ metal arm. Musty air rolled out and Loki flinched back, staring at the stairs down. He could feel Barnes watching him, though, so he steeled himself._

_“I’ll go first,” he said._

Loki thought at first they were trying to break him. Trying to make him beg, trying to _punish_ him. He fought against that, clinging to defiance and rage as they carved him open and cracked his bones and _desecrated_ the core of his being. He might not be able to fight back physically, with how weak they kept him, but every fiber of his will Loki bent to holding himself together.

It took him a long time to understand that they didn’t care if he broke or was defiant, if he begged for mercy or did not. They didn’t want him. He was a body. Valuable for its flesh and blood.

By that token, there would be no end. They could keep him on this edge forever, hanging between life and death, a spirit in a ruined body

That was the first day he screamed for Thor.

_Loki descended the stairs slowly. He called up a flickering witchlight, even though with his recent expenditure of magic it made his chest ache, not sure what he would see. What secret could Sam and Rogers be keeping?_

_The room became visible slowly._

A table, tools laid out neatly on its surface, instruments for a symphony of pain.

_He froze, the air locking in his lungs._

A chair, bindings to hold the occupant in place. A light above flaring in his eyes.

_No-_

They branded him to watch him heal, and the heat brought out his other skin and Loki was alert enough to howl, the cold almost cracking his bindings. A spear of ice through the throat killed one before the burn overcame him.

They found that very interesting.

_NO-_

_“The hell-”_

Thor left you to this. Thor is laughing at you. If you were worthy you could free yourself of this.

(He would beg. He would do anything, if it made this end. They did something to his brain that made it feel like butter being churned. They were keeping a wound on his leg open to observe it for infection. _Odin All-Father tell me what I am meant to do, tell me-_ )

_It never ends. It never ends. It never ends._

* * *

Steve stood frozen, unable to move. He looked at the open door again, at Bucky coiled like a compressed spring, at Loki trying to press himself through the wall and breathing in tight little hitches.

_Stupid. You complete and utter idiot._

“Bucky-” He took a step toward him, and stopped immediately. “I’m - sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ve been meaning to cover it over-”

“You knew,” Bucky growled. “You _knew_ it was here and you were just planning on keeping it a secret? You didn’t think it might be something we should know about?”

Steve bit his lip so he didn’t say _yeah, I didn’t think, it’s empty and I knew it would just upset you._ “It wasn’t like that,” Steve said. “I was just trying to protect you.”

Bucky looked like he was going to snarl. “You sure? You weren’t keeping it in reserve just in case you needed to lock someone down?”

Steve flinched back, eyes widening. “Hey,” Sam said sharply. “That’s unfair and you know it.”

“Is it?” Bucky glared at Steve, and he looked down.

“I’m not...I’d never do that to you. Either of you,” he added, though he didn’t think Loki heard him.

Bucky’s expression didn’t change. “M’I supposed to believe that when you’re keeping secrets and lying?” He gestured at the door. “That’s not just _paranoid survivalists._ Whatever was going on here was a lot worse than just a fringe group of nutjobs trying to resurrect HYDRA in their backyard. That means this place isn’t what Carter said it was. What else was she lying about?”

Steve’s throat and chest felt tight. He opened his mouth and closed it, not sure what to say. “I don’t know,” he managed eventually. “I didn’t think it meant anything more than…”

“You didn’t _think_ ,” Bucky said.

“Lay off,” Sam said, stepping up next to Steve. “We don’t know HYDRA like you do.”

“You’re right,” Bucky said. “You don’t.” He sounded disgusted, and Steve wanted to slink away like a kicked dog. He felt like one.

“Right,” Sam said, sounding equally disgusted. “You’ve made your point. Now go take a walk or sulk in your room or whatever you’ve gotta do to cool off.” Bucky looked at Loki, and Sam said, “trust me, you’re not going to help here.”

Bucky turned on his heel and walked out without looking at Steve. He looked down at his feet.

“Should I go?” He asked. Sam sighed.

“No,” he said after a moment. “Stay here. I might need you if he gets violent.”

Right now, Steve thought, Loki looked the furthest thing from violent. He hardly even looked _present._

Sam rolled his shoulders and walked a few steps closer before crouching down. “Loki,” he said, voice low and steady. “You hearing me?” Nothing. “You’re sitting in the barn, in our safe house,” Sam said. “If you move your hand a little you’ll feel the wood. Right?” Loki still didn’t answer, but he twitched slightly. A reaction to Sam or something else?

“You’re hearing me now? It’s Sam. The one of a kind handsome badass who got you those organic pears you’re so into. I’m more of a peach guy myself, but I can respect our differences.”

Steve listened to Sam rambling what sounded like effortlessly, but he could hear how carefully he was avoiding anything that might draw near to touchy subjects, skating nimbly around them. He watched Loki and saw him first blink, and then take a shuddering breath, eyes focusing slowly on Sam.

“Hey,” Sam said with a faint, crooked smile. “Welcome back.”

Loki swallowed and stared wide-eyed at Sam, still unmoving. He rasped something inaudible.

“Sorry,” Sam said, voice still calm and level. “I didn’t catch that.”

Loki’s tongue crept out and licked his lips. “Tell me,” he said, voice wobbling. “Tell me what I need to do to make it end.”

Steve glanced away, feeling sick. Sam hesitated for a beat, but only a beat. “It’s over already,” he said soothingly. “You’re out.”

Loki’s eyes flickered toward the open trapdoor and Steve moved without thinking to block his view. He was tempted to slam the damn thing closed, like it would change anything. “No,” Sam said. “We aren’t putting you down there.”

Loki started shivering, his breathing turning ragged like he was trying not to cry. “You want to get out of here?” Sam asked. “Cause I feel that. This place sucks.” Loki just twitched, but Sam seemed to take it as an answer. “You want help up?”

Loki’s head turned fractionally toward Sam, still moving like he was damaged inside. Jerky and hesitant. To Steve’s surprise, he nodded.

“Yeah?” Sam said, and he sounded surprised, too. “You sure?” But he stood up slowly and held out a hand. For a moment Loki just stared at him, but then he reached out with startling quickness, grabbing Sam’s wrist and dragging himself to his feet. He yanked Sam in close and Steve jerked forward with a shout, but Loki didn’t lash out.

“Why,” he said, almost a hiss. “Why won’t you just _kill me?_ ”

“Loki,” Sam said, strained, “that’s my wrist.”

To Steve’s surprise, Loki let go and jerked away, his expression flickering between emotions too quickly to catch. Despair and terror and resignation, and he made a faint sound in the back of his throat, not quite a whimper.

“Is this real,” he asked, just above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Sam said, before Steve could get his voice back. “It sure is.”

Loki wavered and seemed to crumple inward again. Steve looked at Sam and saw he was massaging his wrist and grimacing. “I’ll get him inside,” Steve said. “It’s the least I can do, after…”

“This isn’t your fault,” Sam said, sounding tired. “Or at least not only your fault.” He gave Loki a cautious look. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Steve took a breath and added, “you too.”

Steve waited until Sam was clear to edge toward Loki. “Hey,” he said. “Still wanna go inside? It’s probably more comfortable than out here.”

Loki gave him an exhausted, miserable look. Well, Steve thought unhappily, at least he didn’t seem _angry._ Though that could always change.

Steve reached out to steady Loki when he swayed, but he flinched away and Steve let his hand fall, sticking to just walking close. Loki still didn’t quite seem all there.

“There were others,” he said abruptly. His voice sounded like he’d been screaming himself raw. Steve just managed not to stop in his tracks.

“Others?”

“Other...experiments. I don’t know what they were doing. They mentioned...volunteers. And multiple failures. It was probably...probably something to do with me.” A shudder ran through Loki’s body that almost looked like it would shake him off his feet. “Whatever they were trying to make, they wanted to...use my flesh to create it.”

Steve felt a little sick again. “Oh,” he said faintly. He knew it was valuable information - the kind of thing he’d been digging for so recklessly - but now he just felt guilty.

“I didn’t remember before,” Loki said into Steve’s silence. “I was not keeping secrets-”

_Unlike me._ “I’m sorry,” Steve interrupted. “I shouldn’t have pushed. If I want you to trust me I have to earn that, and I haven’t.” He grimaced, though, and added, “but thank you for telling me.” _Other experiments._ HYDRA had been trying to use - volunteers? _people?_ \- to do...something. Trying to replicate Loki’s strength, speed, healing, longevity, all of the above?

It was a troubling thought. But not one he could do a lot about right now, as Sam had pointed out.

Loki didn’t reply, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was because he didn’t want to or was just too exhausted to manage it.

* * *

Loki trailed after Steve into the kitchen, where he found Sam sitting down, flexing his wrist and grimacing. “You all right?” Steve asked.

“Seems fine,” Sam said. He glanced at Loki, whose mind seemed to have gone elsewhere again. “Little sore, but not broken or anything.”

“That’s...good.”

“And Loki?”

Steve saw Loki flinch out of the corner of his eye. “My apologies,” he said, voice strange and distant.

“No lasting damage done,” Sam said after a moment. Loki glanced at Steve.

“May I go?”

“Uh-” Steve glanced at Sam for guidance, who just looked back at him. “Sure,” he said. “If you want. Do you need anything?”

“No,” Loki said, still sounding far away. “Thank you.” He drifted out. Steve watched him go, grimacing.

“Well,” Sam said lowly. “That was fun.” He sighed. “In retrospect, sealing the damn thing probably wouldn’t have actually fixed the problem. So that was a bad call, not being up front about it.”

Steve slumped. “I guess so.”

“Good to know for future reference.” Sam leaned the chair back on two legs and it creaked ominously.

“Future reference,” Steve said miserably. “You think either one of them is going to listen to us again?”

“I don’t know.”

Steve resisted the urge to put his head in his hands. “Have you seen Bucky?”

“No,” Sam said. “I haven’t. And speaking of Bucky - you need to start defending yourself. Right now he’s using you as a punching bag and you’re just lying down for it. I know you feel bad, but it’s not helping anyone. And I’m getting tired of watching it.”

“He has a right to be angry with me,” Steve said.

“For what?” Sam said, and before Steve could find an answer that wouldn’t make Sam look at him in disgust he barreled on. “Besides, it’s not just _you._ It’s just in general, and you make yourself a convenient target.”

_Better me than you,_ Steve thought. _And better me than Loki, too, if we want to keep some kind of peace._ He kept his mouth shut and tried not to scowl, feeling scolded.

“Just my two cents,” Sam said, sounding tired. Steve sighed.

“Loki remembered something,” he said. “About HYDRA. Something about volunteers and experiments. Failed attempts. I didn’t ask,” he added hastily. “I think it just...shook loose.”

“In the flashback, you mean.” There was something dry in Sam’s voice, but it faded out fast. “Do we want to know what failed HYDRA attempts at something Loki-related looks like? Don’t answer that. We’re going to end up finding out anyway, aren’t we?”

“You’re right,” Steve said. “There’s...nothing we can do about it now. But I think we should pass it on to Sharon. Then at least someone knows. But from here on out, I’ll leave it alone.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s probably late for that,” he said. “Memories tend to cascade. One thing leads to another. This might’ve just opened the floodgates.”

The two of them both looked toward the stairs. Steve’s stomach felt like it was sitting somewhere in his heels.

His phone buzzed and Steve jumped. Pulling it out, he glanced at the screen and grimaced. “Speaking of which,” he said, “Sharon’s on her way.”

“Impeccable timing,” Sam said. “Tell her to turn around?”

“I don’t want her to get worried,” Steve said. “And she deserves an update. We’ll just try to keep it quick. And tell Bucky and Loki she’s coming.”

“How much are you going to tell her?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised.

Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “I’ll figure it out.”

* * *

Steve knocked on Bucky’s door, which was firmly and forbiddingly closed. “Buck?” He called. There was no response, and Steve tried not to cringe. “I just wanted to let you know that...Sharon’s dropping by. Shouldn’t be for long, but I...thought you should know.” He paused. “I’m sorry, again. For keeping secrets.”

Still nothing. Steve hesitated, but sighed and turned away without pursuing the subject. It’d probably be better to just...leave Bucky alone, for now.

He tried Loki’s room next and got no response there, either; thinking of the attic he almost let himself in to try knocking on the ceiling, but decided he shouldn’t intrude there, either. Hoping they’d both heard and wouldn’t panic, he went back downstairs to wait.

Sharon arrived within the hour, pulling up in a green sedan with a car top carrier on it. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Going camping?” He asked when she stepped out. Sharon shook her head.

“Supplies for you,” she said, glancing at the house. “Doesn’t look like you’ve started repairs yet. How’ve you been eating?”

“Oh, that,” Sam said. “Loki fixed the stove.” Now Sharon’s eyebrows shot up, and Sam wiggled his fingers. “With magic.”

“That’s…” Sharon glanced at the house, looking a little uneasy. “So he can do that, huh?”

“Apparently so.” Sam shrugged. “I’m not looking that particular gift horse in the mouth.”

“Uh huh,” Sharon said. “Any other surprises I should know about?”

Sam looked at Steve. Steve sighed. “Maybe,” he said. “A few things. Want to come inside? It’s not the most comfortable but there’s some places to sit.”

Sharon didn’t move. “How much hostile glaring should I expect?”

“None at all, at this point,” Sam said. “Our friends seem to be absenting themselves for the moment on account of one of those surprises you should probably know about.”

“This does sound like I’ll want to sit down.”

Steve held the door for her, then gestured Sam in before following. He glanced toward the stairs, but no one seemed to have moved. He made himself sit even if he didn’t feel like holding still.

“So,” Sharon said. “What is it you’re trying to stall on telling me?”

“There’s...Bucky brought up a worrying possibility,” Steve said. “He thinks that maybe Loki wasn’t just abandoned. That whatever HYDRA wanted, they got. We still don’t know what that is, except that Loki’s mentioned some kind of experiments they were running with other people.”

Sharon’s expression went grim. “That’s definitely a possibility.” She paused. “I’ve been looking, keeping an eye out to see what I can see about possible HYDRA holdouts, but so far...no luck. I’ll look harder.” She made a face. “Though that’s hard to do right now. No one’s too eager to keep pursuing this thing. They want it swept under the rug as quickly as possible.”

“The embarrassment over learning there were secret Nazis in your government,” Sam said dryly. “Is that better or worse than the KKK members in the Senate?”

“What else?” Sharon asked. “How are...things going?”

Steve hesitated. “We found a torture basement in the barn,” Sam said, his voice somehow even drier. “We were going to cover it over, but the trauma pair found it first. So that was fun.”

“You found _what?_ ”

“About what he said,” Steve said. “There was a trapdoor in the barn and it led down into a room underground that was...well, nothing good happened there.”

Sharon sat back. “That’s..unexpected.” She looked back and forth between them. “How’d they take it?”

“Poorly,” Sam said. “Bucky accused Steve of wanting to lock him in there. Pretty sure Loki would’ve assumed the same thing if he hadn’t been busy having a flashback.” Sharon’s eyebrows went up, and Sam shrugged. “Could’ve been worse. All things considered, I think we were lucky to get off with nothing other than one sore wrist.” He lifted his arm and let it drop. Sharon’s eyebrows crept up further.

“You guys are crazy. You know that, right?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m _letting_ you do this.”

Steve stiffened, but Sam answered first. “Letting us nothing,” he said. “We would’ve done it anyway, just would’ve been a little harder.”

Sharon sighed. “Yeah, I kind of figured.” She looked back and forth between them. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Steve said slowly. “About the basement...it looked pretty serious for some HYDRA imitators. Are you sure that’s all that was going on here?”

Sharon hesitated. “That’s what Aunt Peggy told me,” she said slowly, “and that’s what I read in the official records...but I guess those might not be worth the paper they’re written on. And there _was_ a cover-up. Could be there was another layer under what I know.” She frowned. “I’ll look into it. But I promise you - this place _is_ abandoned. I wouldn’t have sent you here if I wasn’t sure of that.”

“I believe you,” Steve said, not adding _though Bucky and Loki might not._ “But it’d still be good to know. For the sake of reassuring Loki and Bucky, if nothing else.”

Sharon scrutinized him. “There’s no point in asking if you’re in danger, is there,” she said. “You wouldn’t tell me if there were.”

“We’re fine,” Sam cut in. “We’re managing. Not having a whole lot of fun, but…”

“I’m surprised no one’s poked their heads out to eye me suspiciously,” Sharon said.

“It’s been a rough day,” Sam said. Steve grimaced.

“Well,” Sharon said after a moment, “I’ll look into it. And I’ll be back with more supplies in a couple days. If you need help...I can’t drop everything and run, but I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks,” Steve said cautiously. “You’re being...very helpful.”

Sharon raised her eyebrows. “Taking over the work of eyeing me suspiciously, huh? In for a penny, in for a pound.”

“And this way you can keep an eye on two dangerous elements, just in case,” Sam said, his arms crossed. Sharon glanced at him.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just in case.”

Steve didn’t like it. But he couldn’t say he was exactly surprised.

* * *

Steve expected it would be impossible to get to sleep, but he crashed almost immediately when he fell into bed, plunging into deep sleep empty of dreams.

Until he was jarred awake by someone clapping a hand over his mouth. He lashed out instinctively, his shout muffled, but his poorly angled punch was caught in an inhumanly strong grip.

“Shh,” Loki’s voice hissed, and as Steve’s eyes adjusted he could just make out his face, his wild-eyed expression. “Don’t make a sound.” He pulled his hand away and took a quick step back, no longer looming over him. “There’s someone here.”

That brought Steve bolt upright. “What?”

“There’s someone here,” Loki repeated, his voice still low and almost inaudible. He cast a look over his shoulder. “In the house.”

Steve’s heart started pounding. “Where?”

Loki hesitated. “I’m not...I’m not sure. I looked but I couldn’t find them. But I know...I can _feel_ it.” He paced over to the door and looked out, then drew back. Steve realized he was shaking.

“Did you hear something?” He asked, getting out of bed, glad he was wearing more than just boxers.

“It’s hunting me,” Loki said, his voice urgent. He looked out into the hallway again, breathing quick and shallow. “It wants my soul-”

“Hold on,” Steve said. “What do you think it is?”

Loki’s head swung around and he stared at Steve wide-eyed. “One of the _draugr,_ ” he said. “Drawn to the stench of fear and suffering.”

A nightmare, Steve thought, relaxing fractionally. That’s what this was. “Loki,” he said carefully. “There’s...nothing like that here. Not on Earth.”

Loki shook his head. “You’re wrong. I _know_ it’s here. I _saw_ it.”

That brought the alarm back. “Saw it where?” Loki just shook his head. Steve inhaled slowly. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll go scope things out.”

“No,” Loki said immediately. “Not alone. Alone is worse.” His expression flickered. “It’ll pretend to be a friend. A companion, or a beloved. Then they suck you dry, steal the life they lost…” His arms wrapped around himself and he licked his lips.

Steve stared at him, unnerved, but finally said, “all right. Stay close.”

He went downstairs first and swept the first floor, Loki almost right on his heels. There was no sound other than the quiet creaking of the house, and no matter how hard Steve looked he couldn’t see any trace of anyone having gone through. He checked the upstairs next, leaving Sam and Bucky’s doors alone.

“There’s nothing here,” he said. “Is it...is it possible you dreamed it?”

“It was here,” Loki said. “I was sure…” His expression flickered. “Maybe it left,” he said, with more certainty. “But it will be back. It’s just circling, waiting-”

“Loki,” Steve said, before he could work himself into a lather, “maybe you just...got confused. Or it was an animal outside. It’s been a...stressful day, we’re all on edge-”

Loki’s eyes flared. “You think I’m mad. Seeing things.”

“No,” Steve said quickly, even if the answer was, maybe, yes. “I don’t - when you’re on high alert sometimes anything unexpected will startle you.”

Loki stared at him, breathing hard, and then looked away, folding in on himself. “Perhaps I am,” he said, voice a little distant. “I do not know anymore. I cannot trust - cannot trust _anything._ But I was…” He trailed off. The lost expression on his face made something twist in Steve’s chest. It made him look younger, more vulnerable.

“Tell you what,” Steve said. “I’ll stay up, keep an eye out. I don’t need much sleep anyway. If you want, you can too, but to be honest you look exhausted.” Loki looked uncertain. “That help?”

He almost held his breath waiting, but eventually Loki did nod. That strange, raw, vulnerability hadn’t left. Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think it’ll be fine. Odds are it was nothing.”

“Nothing but me seeing things,” Loki said. “I do not know which is worse.”

Steve was about to say _better to be safe,_ but when he thought about it - not being able to trust what you saw, your own head - he wasn’t so sure. “Try to get some sleep,” he said.

“Unlikely,” Loki murmured, but he slipped away. Steve waited until his door closed before heading downstairs.

The night passed uneventfully, though maybe Loki’s unease had infected him - or maybe his stories of soul-stealing undead. He found himself jumping at shadows again and again.

Sam came down early. “You okay?” He asked. “I thought I heard voices last night.”

“Fine,” Steve said. “Loki came into my room in the middle of the night because he was convinced one of those undead monsters was here and hunting him.”

Sam blinked. “I take it that’s why you’re sitting down here.

“More or less, yeah.” Steve sighed.

“It makes sense,” Sam said. “If he believes they’re drawn to negative energy...he had a whole bunch of negative energy and a healthy dose of paranoia. PTSD can give you hallucinations and that situation’s pretty ripe for it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “And yet there’s a part of me that can’t help wondering. There are aliens and magic, after all. Who knows what else is out there?”

“Don’t start,” Sam warned. “We’ve got enough trouble already without adding zombies to the mix.”

“Soul stealing zombies,” Steve said with a faint smile. “Don’t forget that part.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam said. “Soul stealing zombies. Sounds great.” He shook his head. “I’m going to have some cereal and pray to God today goes better than yesterday.”

* * *

Loki slunk downstairs around mid-morning, looking like hell warmed over. He glanced sidelong at Steve and looked quickly away.

“Morning,” Sam said. Loki just looked at him, something skittish about his bearing. “Rough night?” Sam went on casually. “Have you tried coffee yet? I have no idea if caffeine would even work on you, but it might help.”

Loki didn’t seem inclined to answer, just staring at Sam like he wasn’t quite making sense. Steve shifted a little nervously, wondering how much ground they’d lost.

“Did you get back to sleep?” Steve asked.

Loki shrugged. “More or less,” he said. His voice sounded scratchy, like he had a cold or something.

_I’m guessing more ‘less,’_ Steve decided against saying. “That’s good,” he offered. Loki shrugged again. “Want some oatmeal? I can make some-”

“I can manage,” Loki interrupted, with a brief flash of ferocity, but it vanished quickly and he looked like he was expecting backlash.

“All right,” Steve said, keeping his voice level. “Sounds good.”

After a moment longer staring at them, Loki did go and make his own oatmeal, and if he looked tense the whole time his back was to them, he did come and sit down at the table.

“I was thinking I’d go try to get some supplies for repair, maybe some furniture. And dishes, that kind of thing,” Steve said, talking mostly to Sam.

“Sure,” Sam said. “Tomorrow, maybe? Gives us a chance to make a list.” And, his expression suggested, to recover some from yesterday. Loki said nothing, but though he seemed to be focused on his food Steve got the impression he was listening closely.

Loki drifted back to the couch once he finished his food and curled up, staring vaguely at nothing. Steve glanced at Sam, who stood up.

“Hey,” he said. “Loki. You ever played hangman?”

Loki’s eyes narrowed a fraction, expression wary. “Nothing to do with actual hanging,” Sam said quickly. “It’s a guessing game. Decent way to pass time. Maybe we should send Steve to a bookstore. Or to pick up some board games.”

Loki’s eyes flicked toward Steve and he caught a brief, cautious flare of interest. He shrugged.

“I can see what I can find,” Steve offered. “We could probably all use some things to keep from getting bored.”

“There you go,” Sam said, snapping finger-guns at Steve. “Great. But for now…”

“I’m going to go see if Bucky’s awake,” Steve said, taking a step back toward the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”

Sam waved, and Steve headed cautiously up the stairs. He rapped on the door and waited.

“Bucky?” He said, when there was no answer. “You awake?”

Nothing, and Steve felt a slight prickle down his spine, some instinct giving him warning. He realized he hadn’t heard anything from Bucky since he’d stormed out of the barn.

“Bucky?” He tried again, and after waiting another few seconds tried the door. It opened easily and Steve immediately felt wind on his face and looked toward the open window, and the empty room.

He turned and ran downstairs. “Bucky’s gone,” he said, as Sam turned to look at him with alarm. “He went out the window, I don’t know when-”

Sam shot to his feet, and Loki’s whole body went rigid. “Gone where?” He asked first, voice sharp. “Of his own will?”

“There’s no sign of a struggle,” Steve said. He felt sick. He should have seen this coming, should have done something to head it off. Bucky’d been so angry, _betrayed,_ and Steve knew he didn’t trust him. When had he run? In the middle of the night? And where the hell would he go-”

Loki let out a hissing sound. “Don’t say it,” Steve snapped. “I’m going to go look for - for some kind of trail-”

“I’ll go too,” Sam said. “You take north, I’ll take south.” Loki started to stand up.

“You stay put,” Steve said, and he heard the harsh edge on his voice and tried to moderate it. “In case he comes back.”

“And if he doesn’t come back alone?” Loki said, and while his voice was taut Steve could hear the note of fear underneath.

Every delay let Bucky get further away, but Steve thought of the wobble in Loki’s voice when he said _tell me how to make it end._ “We won’t be far,” he said. “Can you - send up some kind of flare?” It took a long moment, but Loki’s head jerked in a nod. “It’ll be okay,” Steve said, hoping he sounded soothing.

Loki didn’t look convinced, but Steve couldn’t wait any longer. He went for the front door and around to the window. There were scuffed footprints on the ground, and Steve felt a small burst of relief: Bucky probably could have left less of a trail if he was trying to hide.

Unless something had panicked him. Unless he was just confident enough that he didn’t feel like he needed to.

Out a little further, though, any trace vanished. Looking ahead, Steve could see a copse of trees and jogged toward it - they were the only cover, and it’d make sense that Bucky’d go for them. And toward the road.

If he’d gotten in a car - hitched a ride, or hijacked someone else’s vehicle...he could be anywhere.

He moved through the trees to the road, dreading finding some unconscious motorist, but of course if Bucky’d been looking for a car, he would’ve gone further out, the three miles to a real road. Depending on how long ago he’d left…

He heard something behind him and spun around.

“Pay more attention to your surroundings,” Bucky said flatly. “I could’ve killed you four times by now, easy.”

“Buck,” Steve exhaled, almost a gasp. “Thank God. You’re here.”

Bucky just looked at him with a flat-eyed stare. “Thought I’d run off? Gone back to HYDRA, maybe?”

“No,” Steve said vehemently. “ _No._ I thought - I thought you’d just left. Gone off on your own. Where did you _go?_ ”

“Running,” Bucky said.

“You - _Jesus,_ Buck.” Steve squeezed his eyes closed. “You scared me.”

Bucky’s eyebrows twitched up. “Yeah? Worried I was going to kill someone?”

That hit unnervingly close to Steve’s worries about Bucky hijacking a car. “No,” he said quickly. “I was _worried._ ”

Bucky snorted. “I can protect myself.” He half smiled, the expression mirthless. “Admit it. You’re scared of what I might do. You angling to be my new handler?”

Steve jerked back. “Who do you think I _am?_ ” He demanded. “Do you really think - do you really believe that I’d-”

Bucky cocked his head to the side. “That’s what you do, isn’t it? Big damn hero Captain America. Saving the world from the threats no one else can stop. Since you can’t kill me cause I have your old friend’s face, the next best thing is controlling me-”

Something in Steve just - snapped. “What do you want me to do?” He demanded. “What do you want me to say, Buck? I’m _trying._ I’m _trying_ to help, to give you space. I know I don’t understand what you went through, I know you suffered, and I’m _sorry._ But I’m never _going_ to understand if you don’t help me. And you can’t just, just go after me when something goes wrong, and half the time I don’t know _what_ I did because you won’t tell me. You say you want me to know you as you are now, but I can’t do that if you won’t let me in at least a _little._ You act like I’m screwing up on purpose but I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I don’t have any good choices and I’m making it up as I go, and I’m trying to help you but maybe I need you to help me some too.”

He stopped, breathing hard. A moment later he realized he’d been shouting and his stomach plunged. The look on Bucky’s face was blank and unreadable, and Steve wanted to sink down and beg for forgiveness, but he seemed to be frozen.

One corner of Bucky’s mouth quirked up. “There,” he said, sounding almost satisfied. “So you can push back.”

Steve blinked. “What?”

“You keep doing it,” Bucky said. “Going easy on me. Treating me like glass. Lying down and letting me punch you in the face all over again.” The half smile vanished. “That’s what pisses me off. I’m not an invalid. I don’t need someone who’s going to roll over and grovel whenever I look at them sideways. I need someone who’s going to treat me like an equal.” Something in his voice turned savage. “You don’t owe me.”

“I do,” Steve said. “I didn’t save you. If I’d looked for you-”

“Shut the fuck up, Steve,” Bucky said. “You’re not listening. _You don’t owe me._ So stop acting like you do. You trying to _do penance_ just makes me sick. I’m not your priest who’s going to offer you absolution. So let it go.”

Steve swallowed hard. _I don’t know how to do that._ “All right,” he said in a small voice. “I’ll...I will.”

Bucky didn’t smile, but he...relaxed, and it was only when he did that Steve realized how tense he’d been. He nodded, seeming satisfied. “Good,” he said. “That’s better.”

Steve was pretty sure the wave of warmth that went through him was a little pathetic, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it.

“Let’s…” Steve stopped himself. “Can we go back?”

Bucky looked toward the road, then shrugged. “Yeah. All right.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After getting a bit derailed by assorted other things (including, mostly, _Thor: Ragnarok_ ), I'M BACK. 
> 
> Not a whole lot to say here, except that some stuff is building up (but not what you think!) and I have some Plans (but not as many as I'd like). And also many thanks to the reviewer whose casually mentioned idea I borrowed in this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my wonderful [beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), for all her patience and encouraging words through my many writerly tears.

Sam stared after Rogers, scowling. Loki held very still. Rogers was certain that his friend would not betray them, but Loki was not - _could_ not be. Not yet, not entirely. He might hate them. But hatred never necessarily meant disobedience. Every instinct hummed at him to run.

He knew too well that if he did he wouldn’t get far.

Sam muttered something under his breath and turned toward Loki. “Stay here,” he said, though more gently than Rogers had. “It’ll be fine.” 

_Liar,_ Loki thought, but he didn’t say it. There were two doors. Too many windows. But he didn’t like the idea of retreating, of cornering himself. 

Sam left and the house was quiet. Too quiet, enough that he could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears, or perhaps he was imagining it. 

Like the draugr, last night. Rogers thought he was mad. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but he didn’t need to, and he was probably right. The only question in Loki’s mind was whether he was mad enough to imagine things, to mistake dreams for reality, to fantasize his own nightmares into being. 

He’d been so _sure._ But then, how long had it been since he could trust his own mind?

Years. (An eternity.)

Light glinted off something in the corner of his eye and Loki jumped to his feet and whirled around, looking back and forth. Nothing. He could hear himself panting, faint ringing in his ears. 

_Jumping at shadows._ He could almost hear his own mocking laughter. 

( _And what if there is something there? What if you are right to be afraid?_ )

He forced himself to sit back down, digging his fingers into his legs. He reached cautiously for his magic and touched it, not taking hold, just drawing some strength from its presence. 

_They left you alone deliberately._

The thought stole into his mind quietly, but once it was there sunk its claws in and wouldn’t release.

_They want you vulnerable. Isolated. They will attack from stealth and…_

_They won’t even have to go far. There’s a cage ready for you so very close by. Oh, they claim it’s not for you, but everyone lies, don’t they, Odin lied, Frigga lied-_

There was a hand around his throat, cutting off his air and pinning him in place while they fastened the rest of the restraints. He could smell blood but most of it wasn’t his. His right hand was numb now, though, something severed. It might heal. If they let it.

It was metal on his skin. On his throat.

Metal.

A door opened and Loki lurched back, sitting where he had been, his knuckles white. He stood up slowly, sick and unsteady. 

Bucky came in first. He stopped and stared at Loki, who stared back at him. For a moment his fingers itched for a knife. The feeling ebbed fast, though. The look on Bucky’s face was his own reflected back.

He couldn’t trust them. But he couldn’t trust himself, either. 

_They haven’t tried to kill you yet._

* * *

Steve followed Bucky inside. He and Loki were staring at each other, both rigid, Loki’s eyes a little wild. Bucky relaxed first and moved further inside. “Not gonna welcome me back?” He said, and again it was that flash of the Bucky Steve had known that hurt to hear.

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “No.” 

“That hurts.” 

“Everything all right?” Steve asked. One of Loki’s shoulders twitched in what was almost a shrug. 

“Fine.”

So something had happened, Steve translated, but Loki wasn’t going to say what. He held back the urge to sigh. He couldn’t quite keep his “glad to hear it,” from sounding a little dry. Loki’s eyes flicked away and Steve suppressed his grimace. “Where’s Sam?” 

“Still out searching for him, I assume.” Loki jerked his head in Bucky’s direction without looking at him. Bucky raised his eyebrows at Steve.

“I’d better go find him,” Steve said.

“No need,” Loki said. “I will.” He turned and went out the back door without waiting for an answer from anyone. Bucky stared after him for a moment before looking back at Steve. 

“Something happen?” 

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t…” All right, maybe he did know. “I was a little sharp with him. That might be it. And last night was...rough.” 

“Most of ‘em are, aren’t they?” Bucky moved further into the house. Steve debated pushing for more on that and decided they’d done enough for today and it’d be better to just leave it alone. “The woman. Carter. What’d you tell her?” 

“What you said about HYDRA and this place,” Steve said. “That maybe it wasn’t...as small potatoes as she thought it was.” 

“Said it was,” Bucky said.

“She’s not HYDRA,” Steve said firmly. “She’s sticking her neck out to help us.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows twitched, the rest of his face still. “Generous of her.” 

“I’m not asking you to trust her,” Steve said, “but will you trust me?” 

Bucky’s lips twisted a little. “Do you really want me to answer that question?” Steve jerked, and Bucky shook his head. “Right, fine. I believe you. So you told her that and she said…?” 

“That she’d look into it.” He glanced toward the back door. “I also told her...Loki said there might be others. Other people.”

“Other people what,” Bucky said, though based on the way his whole body tensed Steve had a feeling he already knew. 

“That they were experimenting on,” Steve said, after a moment where he wanted to say _nothing, never mind._ He needed to be honest with Bucky. _Completely_ honest. 

Bucky’s exhale came out more like a hiss. “Experimenting on how,” he said. Steve shook his head. 

“I don’t know more than that. I don’t think Loki does either. Sharon’s looking into that, too.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Bucky said after a moment, pacing away from Steve. “This just gets better and better.” 

“I was about to say the same thing,” Sam said, walking through the back door. “Where’d you go?” he asked Bucky. Loki trailed in behind him, looking back over his shoulder. 

“Out,” Bucky said blandly. 

“‘Out,’” Sam echoed. “Well, that sure clarifies things.” 

“Happy to help.” 

“Buck,” Steve said, “don’t.” 

“Nah,” Sam said, “it’s fine. If he wants to be an asshole, that’s fine. But next time you feel like sneaking out, maybe leave a note, huh?” 

Loki, Steve realized, was still standing at the open backdoor, looking out at the property. “Loki?” He said, and Loki shook himself visibly and closed the door.

“Yes?” 

“Did you...see something?” Steve asked carefully. Loki looked at him wordlessly for several moments and then shook his head. 

“No.”

“See something?” Bucky asked, his voice a little sharper. “Like what?” 

Loki pressed his lips together and looked away. Sam answered instead. “Like one of those undead things you mentioned before. Right? Steve said you thought there might’ve been something lurking around last night.” 

Bucky stiffened. “Something?” 

“I found nothing,” Loki said, and then added, “and nor did _he,_ which is probably more - relevant.” 

“You think you might’ve been seeing things,” Bucky said bluntly. Loki twitched, not looking at any of them.

“It’s certainly possible, isn’t it?” 

“We’ll all keep an eye out,” Steve said. “Just in case there is something lurking around.” Bucky looked edgy, and Steve added, “you didn’t see anyone, did you?” 

“No,” Bucky allowed after a moment. “I didn’t.” 

“Maybe it was _you_ Loki saw,” Sam said. “If you were sneaking around at night, that’d make sense. Right?” 

Loki shrugged. “It is possible,” he said, though he didn’t sound convinced. Steve decided it was probably better to let it go, at least for now. 

* * *

“You were going to go shopping,” Sam said, unmistakably pointed. Steve looked up from his lunch and gave him a puzzled look. Things had been - thankfully - quiet since the morning. Loki was subdued, but nothing worse than that, and Bucky actually seemed in almost good spirits.

“I thought it might be better to wait,” he said. With everything that had happened, he didn’t relish the thought of leaving Sam alone. 

“Nah,” Sam said. “I don’t think so. We need some stuff. Including board games. And maybe some books if you get the chance? And a deck of cards.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Any other requests?”

“Not from me.” Sam glanced at Bucky. “You?”

“Beer,” he said promptly. “Glass bottles, not cans. A better switchblade. Handgun wouldn’t be a bad idea either. Is there any motor oil around here?”

“We’re not getting you bomb-making supplies,” Sam said.

“Why not?” Bucky said, apparently completely sincere. Sam gave him a look. 

“Want to go ask Loki?” He said to Steve. “Or I can, if you’d rather.”

“I’ll do it,” Bucky said, and stood up without waiting for a response. Steve frowned after him. 

“Should that worry me?” Sam asked. “Because it does, just a little. I guess it’s probably better than trying to kill each other, but it’s also possible they’ll just end up feeding each other's paranoia.”

Steve grimaced. “I don’t think we need to worry about that until there’s less...active hostility.” He glanced toward the stairs. “Bucky might be willing to make overtures, but it doesn’t seem like Loki’s exactly inclined to reciprocate.” He paused. “And I think...I think it’d be good, if they could come to some kind of settlement.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Sam said. “We’re all going to have to ‘come to some kind of settlement’ if we’re going to keep living here under one roof.” He paused. “Have a good talk with your buddy?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said after a brief pause. “I think...I think it was good.”

“He apologize for taking off?” Steve glanced away, and Sam snorted. “Course not. Don’t know what I expected.”

“Sam,” Steve said, but he couldn’t really say that he was in the wrong. He just shook his head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I knew what I signed up for. Or, all right, maybe not _exactly_ what I signed up for, but no one’s exactly twisting my arm, so…”

Steve heard Bucky coming down the stairs and turned toward him. “What’d he say?” He asked, trying to sound like they hadn’t just been talking about him behind his back. Based on the look Bucky gave him, he didn’t think he really succeeded.

“Nothing,” he said flatly. “He didn’t say anything. Not to me, anyway. You must’ve really pissed him off.” That directed at Steve. He flinched. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you,” Bucky said. “I’m guessing, anyway.” 

“What,” Sam said dryly. “You don’t think I can piss the touchy alien off? I do okay with you, don’t I?”

Bucky glanced at Sam. “Yeah, I guess you do. You do something?” 

“Buck,” Steve said, struggling to keep from...well, rolling over. “I’m...glad you’re concerned about him. But don’t go after Sam because of it.”

Sam and Bucky both gave him a strange look. “I’m not _concerned,_ ” Bucky said. “But why would you be glad if I were?” 

Steve shrugged a little awkwardly. “Well...you said it. We all have to work together, don’t we? That’s easier if there’s at least a little good will involved.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said finally. “All right.” 

“For now…” Steve glanced at Sam. “I guess I’ll just...make a guess. I’ll pick up some things to start repairs with, too. We might as well get cracking on fixing this place up if we’re going to stay here.” He gave Sam one last uncertain, nervous look. 

“Hey,” Sam said, his voice a little less caustic than it had been. “Stop worrying. We’ll be fine. I may not be a super-soldier, but I can hold my own pretty well, and I’ve got decent backup.” Bucky gave him an odd look but didn’t object out loud. “Go on. Get.” 

Steve gave Sam a reproachful look, but he couldn’t help a bit of a smile. “All right, all right. I’m getting.” 

He hesitated a moment again before getting in the car. _Separation anxiety, Rogers?_ He thought dryly, and climbed in, pushing the seat back and starting the engine. They’d be fine without him. 

He wished he felt more sure of that. 

* * *

He used his phone to find the nearest big store - a Walmart about thirty miles away. Further than he wanted to go, but it was probably better that way - they were supposed to be remote, after all. Being close to civilization would kind of defeat the purpose. 

He put on the baseball cap in the back seat and zipped up his hoodie before leaving the car, remembering what Natasha had said about going on the run. He wanted to look over his shoulder, scope out the parking lot, look for anything suspicious-

He walked over to the entrance with his hands in his pockets. _Just a normal guy. Nobody special. No reason to look at me twice._

God, he was bad at this.

Grabbing a shopping cart, he started working his way through the store, wishing he’d thought to bring a list. The thing was that there was so _much_ that they needed, and it was a little overwhelming. Clothes, food, more stuff for cooking and for the house, tools for fixing it up. Books and games, like Sam had suggested. Thinking about it too much made Steve start to feel panicky, so he decided to just take it one section at a time and move slowly. It didn’t feel _great_ leaving Sam on his own, but he had to trust that he could deal with anything that might come up. 

Maybe nothing _would_ come up. Maybe everything would be fine and it would just turn out to be a quiet afternoon. 

Maybe Steve was the problem here and they’d get along better without him. 

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself,_ Steve thought harshly, looking through the dishware and wondering if it was worth getting anything that could break or if he should just stick with disposables. _That doesn’t help anyone._

He’d started looking at clothes, wondering if he wanted to risk trying to pick up some stuff for Bucky and Loki, when he felt someone looking at him. 

Very carefully, Steve shifted himself around, picking up a pair of sweats and holding them up like he was looking at them, scanning the store. He couldn’t see anyone who seemed to be staring directly at him, but he wasn’t exactly trained to spot spies, and the uneasy prickling on his neck didn’t stop. 

Maybe someone was just...looking at him, like people did sometimes. For no reason other than that the serum had given him a body that people looked twice at, and he was just tense and nervous because he was - probably justifiably - paranoid. He hadn’t noticed anything in the parking lot, and he hadn’t seen anyone following him here. It seemed unlikely some HYDRA agent would just - turn up in a Walmart a long ways outside DC, just at random. 

_You might be unlucky enough for that._

Steve grabbed a couple pairs of sweats and several packs of underwear and kept moving, trying to keep one eye behind him. He still felt it, though - the warning that someone was watching him.

The feeling didn’t go away for the rest of his circuit through the store. Steve had the urge to rush, suddenly wondering - if someone was watching him, what if others were back at the farm? What if one of them was keeping an eye on him so they could be sure he wasn’t there to help? He itched to reach for his phone and call Sam, but he held himself back, not letting himself hurry, continuing to do his shopping as though everything was normal. If he was wrong, he couldn’t draw attention to himself. And if he was right, showing any sign that he knew someone was watching could make things a whole lot worse. 

If they were armed, if they decided to attack him…

Steve started checking exits, mapping where the civilians around him were standing, trying to figure out how he would prevent collateral damage if someone started shooting. By the time he finally, _finally_ reached the register, his nerves were shot and he felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin. He wasn’t made for this kind of game. 

Still, he managed to check out normally enough, making some slightly awkward small talk with the cashier, offering the best smile he could manage. He took the offer of help carrying his things and loaded up the car, taking a moment to scan the parking lot. Normal looking shoppers, normal looking cars, nobody seeming to be doing more than glancing over him briefly as they passed by. 

_It’s nothing,_ he told himself again. _It’s nothing, see? Just a bad feeling._

Except usually he could trust his bad feelings. It was just that...Bucky saw danger around every corner, and Loki thought he was being haunted, and maybe, just maybe that was starting to get to _him._

As he pulled out of the parking lot, though, Steve saw a black SUV pull out after him. 

His heart rate spiked immediately. Instead of turning left, he turned right, keeping an eye on his rearview mirror; the SUV turned after him, keeping a couple of car lengths behind. Another car pulled in between them at the next intersection, but Steve could still make out his possible tail behind him. 

He headed for the freeway, figuring that was probably the easiest way to shake them off, and if he could lead them in the wrong direction - make them think he was further east - that would be even better. Hopefully then he could double back along some side roads and make his way back safely. 

_Stay calm. Keep a level head. There’s still a possibility this is just a coincidence._ He drove a mile, then two, the SUV tracking him at a distance.

The turn signal came on and it crossed one lane, then two, and took the next exit ramp off the highway.

Steve almost slumped, exhaling loudly. _See?_ He thought. _Not following you. Get a grip, Rogers. You’re just jumpy. For good reasons, but you can’t let it mess with your head._

He still waited a couple more exits before he turned around. Just to be safe. 

* * *

He pulled up to the front of the house and took a deep breath before getting out. He wondered if he should mention what he thought he’d noticed - what he was _afraid_ he’d noticed. To Sam, definitely. 

No, to everyone. The last time he’d tried to keep secrets, it’d blown up in his face. He’d just have to try to...keep the panic to a minimum. 

He left the stuff in the car and went inside, planning to ask for help unloading. When he got in, though, something felt off. Eerily quiet. For a half second Steve thought everyone was gone, but then he saw Sam sitting at the kitchen table playing solitaire. 

“Hey,” he said. “Everything...okay?” 

“Sure,” Sam said. “Loki had another panic attack, but Bucky found a cat in the barn, so that’s cool.” 

Steve blinked. “What?” He said. Sam picked up the cards, shuffled them, and set down the deck. 

“That’s the summary, basically,” he said. “We did okay. It wasn’t that bad. Something triggered Loki and he freaked out. Didn’t attack anyone, not that kind of freaked out,” he added quickly when Steve tensed. “Just, you know. Shut down. I talked him through it. Soon as he came round again he high-tailed it upstairs. I’d guess he’s still hiding up there. Hopefully even sleeping.”

“You haven’t checked?” Steve said. Sam gave him a look.

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll just go barging into the one safe place Loki feels like he has right after he was facedown in some shitty memory featuring HYDRA’s answer to Josef Mengele. Sounds like a great idea. Not likely to get my face burnt off at all.”

“All right, all right,” Steve said quickly, holding up his hands. “I just...it doesn’t feel right. Leaving him alone all the time, especially when...something like that happens. Do you really think...is it really _good_ for him?” 

Sam sighed. “Maybe? Maybe not. I don’t know. There’s no rulebook for any of this even when it comes to _humans._ An alien who could kill us all with magic? I’m just making it up as I go. One thing I can say: cornering someone who’s panicking when they actively distrust you is never a good plan.”

Steve sighed, looking toward the stairs, but that still left the other half of what Sam’d said. “Wait. What about a cat?” 

“Go see for yourself,” Sam said. He gestured back toward the door. “They’re probably still in there bonding. Maybe he’ll even let you stay. He shoved me out because I was ‘scaring the cat.’”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it. He hesitated. “There’s...something you should know.” 

Sam sat up. “That doesn’t sound good.” 

“It’s not.” Steve drummed his fingers on his leg. “I’m not sure, but it felt like someone was watching me, in the store. I thought there was a car following me on the way back, for a while, but either I shook them off or they weren’t really a tail.” 

Sam frowned. “Yeah, that’s definitely not great.” He paused. “What do you think the likelihood is that you were just getting spooked being out in public?” 

“I wish I could say for sure, but I honestly have no idea.” He paused. “I...figure we’d better tell Loki and Bucky.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Definitely. Remember the last time we tried keeping secrets? Even though it’s likely to make the paranoid twins even more paranoid. But at least they’ll know we’re being honest, and we can emphasize that it could really, honestly be nothing. And that if it was a tail, you lost them before getting anywhere close to here.” 

Steve was already dreading that conversation. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “You’re right.” 

“As usual.” Sam said. Steve grimaced at him, but then looked toward the barn. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “Stuff’s in the car if you want to unload anything. I’ll get to it in a minute.”

He went out to the barn, poking his head inside first. “Buck?” He called, keeping his voice low. 

“Stay quiet,” Bucky said. 

“Can I come in?” 

“It’s a free barn.” 

Steve thought about pointing out that Bucky had chased _Sam_ out of it, but decided he didn’t need to remind him of that. He slipped inside and walked slowly over to where Bucky was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a can of tuna sitting open in front of him. 

“Did you take that out of the cabinets?” Steve asked. 

“Don’t suppose Sam texted you for any cat food,” Bucky said without answering. Steve supposed that was probably a yes. 

“He didn’t, sorry,” Steve said. “So you found…”

Bucky pointed. “She’s over there.” 

Steve peered, and indeed a few feet away from the tuna can was a cat crouching in the shadows, tail lashing back and forth. It looked like it’d seen better days: one ear was ragged, its fur was patchy and dull, and it exuded an air of feral wariness. 

Really, Steve thought, a lot like Loki. 

“I wonder if she was living in here,” Bucky said, still sitting and watching the cat. “Before we moved in. Probably plenty of mice. Or rats.” He was holding very still. “Looks like she got herself into some kind of situation, though. One of her eyes is all scratched up.” 

“‘Her’?” Steve said. Bucky shrugged. 

“Why not?” 

Steve supposed that was fair. “You want to...try to catch her? Take her inside, patch her up-”

Bucky shook his head. “No. No need. She’ll be fine. Put out some food for a little while and she’ll heal up.” He moved back a little and stood up, reaching out to push Steve back with him. A moment later the cat emerged slowly and went to the open can, crouched down and still watching them. The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched like he was going to smile. 

“Yeah,” he said, “go on. You’re good.” It took Steve a moment to realize that he was talking to the cat, and not to him. Bucky brushed his hands on his pants and turned to head for the door. 

“You sure you don’t want to do something else? Tend some of those scratches?” 

Bucky looked over his shoulder. “She’s a feral cat, Steve,” he said. “You don’t just wrap one of those up in a blanket and bring them indoors.” 

He exited the barn. Steve looked back at the cat, who was nibbling delicately at the tuna, and then went to go unpack the car. To his surprise, Bucky joined him. Steve hesitated again, reminded himself of what Sam had said, and stopped. 

“Buck,” he said. “While I was out...I’m not sure of anything, but…”

Bucky glanced at him sidelong, tensing. “Was someone following you?” 

“I don’t know for sure,” Steve said again, quickly. “It was just a feeling, and I wasn’t exactly relaxed. Nobody followed me here, or even - got close. I led them east and lost them somewhere on the interstate. He took a deep breath. “I never would’ve come back here if I thought I was leading someone to our door.” 

Bucky looked at him for a long time, expression stony, and then nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

Steve blinked, probably unfairly surprised. “You’re - welcome.” He smiled weakly. “I’m not keeping secrets from you anymore.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up slightly and then flattened again. “Good to hear,” he said, shifting his bags in his arms. “Are you going to tell Loki, too?” 

“I was planning on it,” Steve said after a moment. 

“You sure that’s a good idea? He’s already possibly hallucinating ghosts. Zombies. Whatever.” 

Steve glanced at Bucky, surprised. “You think I shouldn’t?” 

Bucky shrugged. “Just asking.” He started back toward the house. Steve followed after him, hurrying to catch up.

“How’s your new best friend?” Sam asked Bucky when they came in. Bucky grunted in response. “Communicative,” Sam said, and looked at Steve. “So, what’d you bring back?” 

“The book selection wasn’t great,” Steve said, “but I picked up a few things. And a few games.” 

“Tell me you didn’t get Monopoly,” Sam said. “That game ruins friendships.” He paused. “Or Risk. That seems like it’d be a little too on the nose with - you know.” He gestured generally in the direction of the second floor.

“Go ahead and take a look,” Steve said. “Let me know if you approve.”

“You bet I will,” Sam said.

“I brought some stuff to start repairs, too,” Steve said. “Insulation, stuff to patch up the roof. Basic toolkit. I figure we can start work tomorrow.”

“Sounds good to me.” 

“I don’t know anything about fixing up houses,” Bucky said flatly. 

“You think any of the rest of us do?” Sam said. “We’ll figure it out. Eventually. Might not be pretty, but at least it’ll do the trick. Hopefully.” 

Bucky shook his head but didn’t contradict Sam again. 

* * *

Loki came downstairs toward the evening and went out the back door without speaking to any of them, despite Sam asking if he wanted chili or chicken noodle soup for dinner. Steve looked after him, frowning, thinking through their last interactions. He knew he hadn’t done...great, lately. Pushing Loki, asking the questions he had...that’d been a mistake. But when Loki’d panicked in the middle of the night he had come to Steve. 

That was...peculiarly gratifying. It felt like he shouldn’t be pleased by the fact that a supervillain had chosen him to come to with his fears. Steve supposed maybe he was just glad that _someone_ had asked him for help. 

He looked at Sam. “Can I go talk to him?” 

Bucky gave him an odd look from where he was lounging on a chair. “You’re asking Wilson for permission?” 

“Yeah,” Sam said, without responding to Bucky. “Go ahead. Try to keep away from any sensitive subjects, though. One panic attack a day is enough.”

Steve winced. “I’ll be good,” he said, and headed for the door. 

Loki wasn’t sitting on the back porch and for a moment Steve felt a flutter of panic, but then he saw him a little further out, just illuminated by the light from inside, sitting on the grass with his legs crossed, staring out into the dark. 

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. “Something up?” 

“No.” 

Not that you’d tell me if there was, probably, Steve thought, but he decided not to press, moving a little forward to where he could get a better look at Loki’s face, at least in profile. There wasn’t a lot to see. Loki’s ‘expressionless’ face could put Natasha’s to shame.

“Can I sit?” Steve asked tentatively. Loki flexed his fingers, threads of green winding around them like tiny snakes before vanishing. 

“You may do what you like.” 

Steve sat slowly, careful to keep a safe distance between them. “I just thought I’d...check in. I know it’s been a rough couple of days.” Loki said nothing, and Steve shifted. “So…”

Maybe he should mention the possibility that he was being followed now. Before he could figure out the best way to phrase it, though, Loki spoke up.

“I understand,” Loki said. “Why you kept it a secret. That...place.”

It took Steve a moment to realize what Loki was talking about. “Oh,” he said. “Well-”

Loki turned his head and fixed Steve with a cold, level stare. “It is - insurance. Yes?” 

Steve blinked, and then felt a flash of frustration. _I said,_ he meant to say, and then realized that everything he’d told Bucky...Loki’d might not have heard any of it. Not with how far gone he’d been at the time. He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head. “No,” he said vehemently. “ _No._ It was - a mistake. Sam and I found it there and were planning to seal it shut, but I - forgot. That’s all.” 

Loki’s gaze didn’t move. “Did you? Or did you, somewhere, think that perhaps you might need a place to contain something dangerous?” 

Steve noticed that _something,_ not _someone,_ and wondered what exactly the difference meant to Loki. “No,” he said flatly. “I didn’t. I keep telling you: that’s not who I am. And it never will be. And I think you do know that, or you wouldn’t have woken me up last night.”

Loki stared at him for a long, long moment. Steve waited, and finally, _finally,_ Loki relaxed. Minutely, but enough that Steve could see it. “Decency is rare,” he murmured. 

“Not as rare as you’d think,” Steve said, and managed not to ask, _I’m sure it looks that way if you’re always second-guessing it when it’s there._

Loki closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Don’t just seal it,” he said. “Bury it. Destroy it so that no one can ever use it again.” There was a very faint tremor in his voice, and Steve’s chest clenched sympathetically. 

“Yeah,” he said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Loki shuddered, though he didn’t quite seem aware of it. “Thank you.”

_It gets better,_ Steve knew he was supposed to say. That was what you said to people. But he wasn’t sure it was true, and Loki would call him on it. “It won’t always be this bad,” he said finally, hoping Loki didn’t snap at him. 

“No,” he said blandly. “It might be worse.” Steve winced, and Loki rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “They may not have killed me,” he said, quieter, “but I think they still won.”

“That isn’t true,” Steve said. “Not as long as you - keep going.” It occurred to him the irony of the fact that he was encouraging the man he’d fought not so long ago to persevere, but it was hard to look at Loki now and see him as an enemy. 

“Keep going,” Loki said. “Easy words to say.”

“And hard to do,” Steve said quickly. “I know. But...I don’t know. You’ve managed so far.”

Loki’s expression twitched. “Have I?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you?” Steve said. Loki turned more toward him, studying Steve with a strange look on his face. 

“I suppose so,” he said, sounding strangely cautious. “Is that enough to go on?” 

Steve swallowed and looked out at the field. “I don’t know,” he said finally, choosing candor. “But seems to me it’s enough to start with.” 

Loki didn’t answer, but when Steve glanced in his direction he looked thoughtful. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only been five months! That's not that long!!!!
> 
> Anyway, it's finally here, and I'm already at work on the next chapter - mostly the issue here turned out to be that what I thought was one chapter in fact needed to be two, where this one was...mostly people just talking to each other. Which is most chapters of this tbh, but maybe especially this one? idk. Anyway, though: thanks to [my poor, overburdened beta](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com) who has taken on editing baaasically everything I write, and to Viewers Like You, who leave comments and send me asks on Tumblr and generally make my little writerly heart grow three sizes that day. 
> 
> And now the dysfunctional boys you're presumably here for.

They sat outside in silence for some time. Loki felt like he was waiting, though he couldn’t exactly have said what for. The soldier, to Loki’s faint relief, seemed content to sit in silence. 

“Do you want to come back inside?” He said eventually, sounding oddly hesitant. Loki shook his head. 

“I think I want to sit out here a little longer,” he said, mostly to see if the soldier would argue, turn the question to an order, refuse to leave because he didn’t trust Loki alone. (Loki wasn’t sure he trusted himself alone.) The soldier - _Steve,_ Loki still struggled to think of him so, and avoided the issue aloud by simply never speaking his name - hesitated, then stood up. 

“All right,” he said. “If you need anything…”

He trailed off. There was something almost plaintive in the way he offered, like he wanted Loki to need something so that he could offer it. That very need made Loki chary of asking. Steve said he was not a substitute for his friend, the one who had been Hydra’s muzzled dog, but Loki suspected that was the root of that desperation. 

He did not want to accept gifts meant for someone else. ( _But isn’t that better than getting nothing at all?_ )

Loki waited in silence until Steve retreated back inside, and then sighed out. He was so tired, and he saw no relief in sight. Still alive, but by the same token still caged. Even if he could run - even if they let him go - he could not escape the trap his mind had become. And maybe never would. 

He looked up at the night sky and for a moment his lips shaped the words: _Heimdall, open the Bifrost._ For a moment he almost said _Allfather, why have you abandoned me here?_

He was too afraid that silence would answer. 

Loki drew his knees up to his chest. He felt chilled, though logically he knew he wasn’t cold at all. The temperatures would have to be much lower than this - or maybe he couldn’t get cold at all. He thought he remembered his arm being immersed in - something, liquid that made his bones ache for a split second before the change-

He shied away, pressing his forehead into his knees and controlling his breathing. _In. Out. In, two, three, out, two, three._

_Breathe with me, Loki._ Frigga’s voice. No. He couldn’t think of her, either, almost more painful than the other memories. Odin was not a surprise. Thor had left him here to begin with. But Frigga, at least - he did not want to believe that she would have let this happen.

And yet, patently, she had. All the scars, invisible on his skin but etched into his soul, attested to that. And now he was here, stranded on a strange world, pieced together like a poorly mended garment and unable to rely on his own mind. 

(He couldn’t even remember what had set him off earlier. One minute he’d been fine and the next he’d been screaming, spitting curses, _it’s not enough, we need more sedative,_ the pink-red shine of his own insides.

Then: Sam prying his nerveless fingers loose from the handle of a knife, talking low and quietly, words Loki couldn’t follow. Another blank spot in his memory. Another loss of control.) 

If he never healed more, if he never regained himself - could he live, as this half-shell of what had been _Loki_? 

Did he want to? 

He heard something, out in the dark, and jerked up, reaching instinctively for his magic. It flooded into him like a tide, deceptively strong. 

Loki let it go reluctantly, and stood. He walked back to the house slowly, let himself back in as quietly as he could. Bucky - that name seemed to fit him poorly, somewhere Loki still thought of him as _the Asset -_ looked sharply over toward him, and then visibly forced himself to relax. He didn’t exactly smile, but the slight dip of his chin was a cautious acknowledgment between equals. 

“Hey, Loki,” he said, voice casual, and Loki wondered if anyone else could see how tightly he was wound, straining for normalcy. “You hungry?”

_Who do you think you are fooling,_ Loki wanted to say, but maybe he was. Bucky _could_ fool people. Loki hated him for that. Loki envied him.

Maybe, if he was lucky, he would get there someday. 

* * *

Loki came in a little while after Steve did, and if he seemed distracted and maybe a little melancholy, he neither panicked nor snapped at anyone. 

Which was - a depressingly low bar, but it was also one they didn’t always manage to clear, so Steve was going to take it. 

Bucky helped Sam make chili for dinner, which was delicious; Steve kept an eye on Loki to see that he ate it. He did, though almost painfully slowly. 

“I still think we need to talk about a plan for defending ourselves,” Bucky said, pushing his compostable bowl away. “Especially given what happened to Steve.”

Loki looked up, glancing from Bucky to Steve and back again. “What happened?” 

Bucky gave Steve a narrow-eyed look. Right. What he’d gone out to talk to Loki about in the first place, before getting distracted by the other stuff. “It’s possible that when I went out shopping someone tried to follow me,” Steve said. “I don’t know for sure, and if they were then I lost them out on the freeway heading west, but…”

Loki stiffened slightly, but he didn’t immediately panic. His eyes did flick briefly toward the door. “How likely is it that they were following you?” 

“As opposed to just paranoia?” Steve said. “I don’t know.”

“Does it matter? We can be pretty damn sure Hydra’s looking.” Steve could see Bucky’s knee bouncing up and down. “We should be ready when they show up.” 

“If,” Sam said. “ _If_ they show up. Let’s all remember that’s the worst case scenario and not the inevitable outcome.” 

“That’s not the whole of the worst case scenario,” Loki said. He’d stopped eating, poking at his chili and staring at it instead of anyone else. “The worst case scenario is that they come here and catch us off guard, armed with tools that experimenting on me gave them the means to create. And perhaps the scepter as well.” 

“‘The scepter,’” Sam said. “Steve mentioned that before. I’m guessing you don’t just mean some rod a king holds.”

Loki’s eyes cut to Steve briefly and then went back to the chili. He looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin and Steve shifted. 

“Loki,” he said carefully, “if you can’t do this…”

He let out a little bark of a laugh. “I do not think Hydra is going to wait. The scepter was - is - a weapon. I used it when I attacked this Realm to control the minds of others.”

Bucky made a strange, ugly sound in the back of his throat. “You _what?_ ” 

Loki looked up, expressionless, and said nothing. Bucky put his hands flat on the table, his jaw tightening, and Steve leaned quickly forward. 

“Hey,” he said, though he couldn’t blame Bucky at all for his reaction. “It’s not here now.” A part of him wondered if Loki had mentioned the thing deliberately for this exact reason - he had to know what kind of reaction he’d get. 

“I don’t think that’s his concern,” Loki said. Bucky’s jaw clenched. 

“You’re right, it’s not,” he said. “You did to those people what Hydra did to me-” 

“I was neater,” Loki said, and Steve felt suddenly sick. Sam stood up with a loud scrape of his chair. 

“Loki,” he said flatly, “stop baiting Bucky. I don’t know why you’d want him to punch you in the face, but that’s what you’re heading for.” 

“I wouldn’t use my fist,” Bucky growled. Steve put a quick hand on his arm, looking back and forth from Loki to Bucky, wishing he could’ve stopped this. It’d gone south so _fast._

“What’s going on with you?” He asked Loki, focusing on keeping his voice from getting too sharp. Loki turned his head sharply to look at him and then seemed to go almost limp, eyes dropping back toward the chili. 

“My apologies,” he said quietly, to Steve’s surprise. 

“For what?” Bucky demanded. Loki’s eyes closed. 

“For provoking you,” he said. “I don’t think offering you apologies for anything else would have much point.” 

“You’re right,” Bucky said shortly. “It wouldn’t.” He picked up his empty bowl, threw it in their compost bucket, and left the room. Loki stayed where he was, unmoving. 

“Okay,” Sam said. “Can someone fill me in a little more about this scepter thing? I didn’t hear anything about this on the news.” 

Loki shook his head slightly. “I can’t believe that - it was left here.” Steve thought that brief hitch covered Thor’s name. “Typically…” He made a small noise, a sort of humorless _‘ha.’_ “As I said. Odin mislikes having objects of power outside his control.” 

“But what exactly did it do? Some kind of - mind control stick?” 

“Put crudely, yes. I would guess that the technical details are not very interesting to you.” Loki looked like he was developing a headache. “I have no idea what someone without magic could achieve with it. Probably not...the same as I did.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Sam said sarcastically. “Jesus fuck. You used magic to mind control people?” Loki said nothing, and Sam shook his head. “Right, okay.”

“If I may be excused,” Loki said, still looking down, “Unless you have further questions.”

Steve hesitated. “Can I ask why you were provoking Bucky?”

Loki glanced at Steve. “He was always going to be provoked the moment I explained what it - what I did.” 

“You didn’t exactly try to make it easier on him,” Steve said. Loki’s lips twitched minutely at the corner, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Do you really think it would have helped if I had tried? Or would he have seen it as me trying to deceive him into thinking I am better than I am?” 

Steve blinked at him. “So you’d rather act like you’re _worse_ than you are?” He said, a little incredulous. Loki shrugged.

“Am I?”

Steve checked himself, frowning, realizing the assumption he’d just made. That he had no reason to make. True, it was hard to think of Loki as he was now trying anything like what he had before - hard _not_ to think of him as someone completely different. But he wasn’t. 

Sam looked like he’d bitten into something sour. “I hate this,” he complained. “I hate it. Normal brainwashing is bad enough without bringing _magic_ brainwashing into things.”

“If it helps,” Loki said, “magic is rare on your planet, and mind-magic is a relatively uncommon skill.”

“But that,” Steve said, “what you did to Clint, and Dr. Selvig, and the others - it was the scepter that let you do it.” 

“Yes,” Loki said, after a beat, and then added after another, “though I have some abilities of my own. Albeit entirely beyond my reach now.” 

Sam looked like he was trying hard not to scoot back away from Loki. “‘Some abilities.’ What does that mean?” 

Loki shrugged one shoulder. “Before this? I could persuade, suggest. Draw out memories and make a person relive them. Affecting perception is related. Illusion work is adjacent. Both of which I was fairly good at.” 

“You _could_ ,” Steve noticed, past the fact that his skin was crawling. “You _were_ good at.”

“Yes,” Loki said. His voice was dull, and he stared past Steve at the wall behind him. “I do not think I could manage even the simplest illusion, let alone something more complicated.”

“Right now?” Sam asked. “Or never?” 

Loki twitched, not quite a flinch. Steve suspected that was only because he suppressed it. “I have no idea. Maybe never.”

Sam looked like he was trying not to look too relieved. 

“If it does come back,” Loki said after a moment, “then I do not intend to use it on any of you. I am certain that is little comfort, considering...considering. But let it be spoken nonetheless.” He laid his hands flat on the table, fingers spread out, and Steve realized that they were trembling slightly. “May I go?” 

“You know you don’t need to ask permission,” Sam said. Loki just looked at him, and Sam sighed. “Yeah, it’s good with me. Steve?” 

“Go ahead,” Steve said. “It’s...I don’t think there’s anything else right now.” 

Loki stood up, a little jerkily, and walked up the stairs. Steve and Sam stared at each other. 

“Okay,” Sam said. “So...that’s a new wrench in things.”

Steve sighed. “Which part?”

“All of it?” Sam leaned his elbows on the table. “Loki had a magic mind control stick. He just sprang that news on Barnes, who has seventy years worth of brainwashing-based issues. Apparently he can - or _could,_ if he’s telling the truth about not being able to do it right now - tool around with people's’ brains without the stick. So...yeah. All of it.” 

Steve rubbed his forehead. “Call me stupid,” he said, “but I believe Loki about him not planning on doing it in the future.”

“I’m not going to call you stupid,” Sam said. “I’m just...a little freaked out. And if _I_ am…”

“Bucky,” Steve said heavily. He looked out toward the exit Bucky had taken. 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I think that fragile truce is blown. What are the odds that Bucky’s going to try to kill Loki again?”

Steve winced. “I...don’t know what he’ll do.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know him anymore. Not like I used to.”

“Well,” Sam said, “it’s good that you recognize that.”

Steve sighed, and dropped his head forward. A moment later he heard Sam sigh too. “Sorry, that was...probably uncalled for. I know you know it. That’s a big part of what has you so miserable, right? Well, that and not being able to fix his seventy years of trauma overnight.” 

Steve looked up at Sam, grimacing. “I don’t expect to.”

“Nah, but you’d like to.” Sam shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s normal. No one likes to see someone they care about suffering. And you always seem to feel like you should be able to fix everything.” 

Steve rubbed his forehead. “Who says I shouldn’t be able to, huh?” He said, though tiredly. Sam reached over and patted his shoulder. 

“Hey,” he said. “We’ve made it this far. And you’ve got me, right?”

“We wouldn’t have made it half this far without you,” Steve said honestly. 

“You’re gonna make me blush, Rogers,” Sam said dryly, but he looked pleased.

* * *

Loki reappeared in Steve’s doorway as he was starting to bed down for the night. He moved almost silently: one minute he wasn’t there, and the next he was, a strange look on his face. Steve sat up quickly. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“No,” Loki said, after a brief pause. “Or, well. Nothing new. I wanted to...thank you. And apologize.” 

He wasn’t quite looking Steve in the eye. More over his shoulder at the wall. Steve relaxed, slightly, and tried to make it obvious that he was. “All right,” he said slowly. Loki’s fingers twitched at his side and he jerked his head in a nod, taking a quick step back like he was going to leave. “Wait,” he said. “Um - why are you apologizing to me?” 

Loki gave him a look like it was a stupid question, though it shifted quickly toward something else, his eyes narrowing. “Is this a test?” 

Steve blinked. “A test of what?” 

“I don’t know,” Loki said, his voice tightening. “Whether I can give you the right answer?” 

Steve hesitated, perplexed but trying to choose his words carefully. “The right...there wasn’t a right answer. I was actually asking. I don’t know why you’re apologizing to me.” 

Loki’s expression flickered between wariness and uncertainty and then closed off entirely. “I recognize that I have made things more difficult for you,” he said, and after a moment added. “Generally. And specifically...this evening. It was…” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “You have been remarkably forbearing. And deserve better.”

“Thank you,” Steve said slowly. “I...appreciate it. Though I don’t think _I’m_ the one…”

Loki glanced away. “Your - friend will not appreciate my approaching him now. I already spoke to Sam.”

“Oh,” Steve said. He supposed that made sense. “Okay.” Something felt off, here, and he groped after it. In the meantime: “I believe you. That you’re not going to attack us.”

Loki twitched, like Steve had slapped him. “Ah,” he said. Steve frowned. Shouldn’t that have been a relief? 

“Are you…” Steve adjusted his question. “Is something wrong?” 

Loki let out a strangled sort of sound that only barely qualified as a laugh. “Something,” he said. “Yes. _Something._ ” Steve frowned and he shook his head, avoiding his eyes. “No. Nothing you can help. Nothing you can _fix._ I need to go.”

“Wait,” Steve said, standing up and reaching out to catch Loki’s arm as he turned away. He pulled back at the last second, catching himself at the same time as Loki lurched around, eyes wild with panic. Steve quickly held up his empty palms. “Sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking. Just...if something’s going on…” He tensed, frowning. “You’re not thinking of leaving, are you?” 

Loki twitched again and was quiet. Steve took a deep breath in. “Are you?” 

“Could I?”

Steve hesitated. _No,_ he thought immediately. It was too dangerous. Having Loki out there, loose, no one to keep an eye on him - he could do anything. And even if that _weren’t_ the case, he was hardly in any condition to be out on his own where Hydra could get to him. But…

“Is this a test?” Steve asked, echoing Loki’s question of a few moments before. “About whether you’re trapped here? Or what I’ll do if you want to leave?” 

Loki tensed. “I was only asking a question.”

Steve bit his lip. “What would you do?” He asked. “If you left? Where would you go?”

Loki’s eyes flicked sideways and he didn’t answer. “It’s not safe,” Steve said. “I think you know that.”

“Nowhere is,” Loki said. It sounded like something he’d repeated to himself so many times that it was almost habitual. Steve kept his gaze as level and as calm as he could. 

“We’re trying to make sure this place can be.” 

“What are you doing here?” Bucky said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

Steve winced. He’d had thought Loki was tense before. He turned to look at Bucky. “I was speaking with...Steve.” There was a little hitch over his name; Steve wondered how Loki thought of him in the privacy of his head. 

Bucky looked Loki up and down, glowering. “He was,” Steve said, hoping he could cut some of the tension. 

“About what?” Bucky asked, his voice hard. “No, it doesn’t matter. Clear out.” 

For a second Steve thought Loki was going to snap. It was a visible effort to pull himself back under control. Steve hesitated, then braced himself and said, “actually, we were in the middle of talking about something. Could you wait just a couple minutes, Buck?”

Both of them stared at him like he’d just spouted gibberish. Loki looked stunned; Bucky’s eyes were narrowed like he thought Loki might’ve gotten to him somehow. 

“No,” Loki said quickly. “No, I am...done. Thank you,” he said, after a pause, and all but bolted. Steve stared after him and after a second picked up his phone and texted Sam. _Loki’s acting weird. Maybe you should check in?_

_You say that like it’s new,_ Sam wrote back a beat later. _But yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him._

Then he looked back at Bucky. “What is it?”

“I need…” Bucky’s lips twisted like he’d bitten into something sour. “I need someone to help me cut my hair.”

Steve wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t that. “What?” 

“My hair,” Bucky repeated. “I want to cut it off. It’s too long.”

“Um,” Steve said, still taken aback. “Are you asking _me_ if I can…?”

“I don’t think Wilson’s got any hairdresser training,” Bucky said. He didn’t even mention Loki as a possibility, which wasn’t exactly a surprise. 

“Neither do I,” Steve pointed out. 

“It doesn’t have to look nice,” Bucky said. “I just want it out of my face. 

“Sure, I guess,” Steve said. “If you want me to, I can do my best. Tomorrow? When the light’s better?” 

“Works for me.” Bucky shifted from one foot to the other. “You should’ve told me.” 

At least he didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound much of anything else, either, though. “About Loki’s...the scepter.”

“And what he did with it, yeah.” Another of those nervous little shifts. 

“I wasn’t deliberately keeping it from you,” Steve said honestly. “With everything else...it just hadn’t come up. I’m not making excuses,” he said quickly. “I should’ve thought of it sooner. And what it’d mean to you.”

Bucky looked like he was considering that for a moment, then shrugged. “Right,” he said. “It’s fine.” 

Steve blinked, honestly taken aback. “What?” 

“It’s fine,” Bucky said. “Not your fault. You’re not the one who was fucking with peoples’ heads.”

Steve almost slumped with relief, though a moment later he realized that even if that was good for _him…_ “Are you going to...do anything to Loki? Because of this?” 

“Do you mean am I going to attack him?” Bucky paused, cocking his head to the side, and Steve almost felt a chill at the look on his face: blank, assessing. He didn’t look angry, or like he was thinking about hurting someone. He might’ve been thinking about what he wanted to eat for breakfast. “No,” he said at length. “Probably not. Not unless he tries anything on me.” 

“I don’t think he will.” 

Bucky’s lips twisted. “Probably not.” He tapped the fingers of his right hand on his leg. “Do you think he’s got a death wish?”

“What?” Steve said, startled. Bucky shrugged. 

“Just wondering.”

“What makes you think that?” Steve asked carefully, thinking of _I’ll die before I go back. Promise me if it comes to that and I cannot do it, you will._ Thought of just the night before. There was a brief bad taste in his mouth. Bucky just shrugged again. 

“Dunno. Just a feeling.” 

“I don’t think so,” Steve said slowly, though a part of him wondered if he should run that by Sam and see what _he_ thought. It was pretty damn obvious that Steve didn’t know what he was doing when it came to Loki’s head. “But I guess...I hadn’t really thought about it.” 

Bucky jerked his head in a slight nod and turned back toward the hallway. 

“Goodnight,” Steve offered, and then wanted to wince at how pathetic he sounded. Bucky glanced back at him. 

“You too,” he said, and after a moment added, “you’re not doing too bad.”

Steve blinked, then frowned. “What...do you mean?” 

“With...what we talked about,” Bucky said, and now he looked awkward, which strangely enough set Steve at ease. “I mean, you’re still way too fucking tense, but...doing better.” 

“Thanks?” Steve said. His half-smile felt painfully crooked, but Bucky’s lips twitched a little so maybe that was fine. 

“You’re welcome.” Bucky turned and left quietly. Steve stared after him until he heard his phone buzz and scrambled to pick it up. 

_Loki’s sleeping again._

Steve frowned. _He seems to be doing a lot of that._

“To be fair,” Sam said from the doorway, “he could just be lying up there staring at the ceiling. We wouldn’t know. I knocked on the attic and he didn’t answer.” 

Steve chewed on his lip. “Bucky asked if I thought he had a death wish.” Sam’s eyebrows went up. 

“What’d you say?” 

“I’m more curious about what you think,” Steve said. “You seem to be able to suss out what’s going on in his head better than I can.” 

“Not much better,” Sam said. “I honestly don’t know. But maybe it’s something to keep an eye on. It’s not…” He eyed Steve, something in his expression going a little odd. “It’s not an uncommon reaction to PTSD, exactly. Depression, suicidal thoughts.”

Steve glanced aside, vaguely uncomfortable. “You know that from the VA?” 

“Know it from my friends,” Sam said. “I’m going to go get some sleep. You should too. Hard work starts tomorrow, right?” 

“Right,” Steve said. “Like fixing the house is the hard work.” 

Sam snorted. “Fair enough.” 

* * *

Steve woke up early and went for a run around the property. When he got back, Sam was up, eating oatmeal alone in the kitchen. Steve glanced toward the stairs.

“You just missed Bucky,” Sam said, mouth full. “Had the same idea you did, apparently.”

“And Loki?” Steve asked. 

“Not a peep,” Sam said. Steve frowned. He felt like he should do something, the prolonged silence worrisome, but he didn’t actually know whether there was anything he could do. “Give him until noon,” Sam said, “and then you can go and bother him.” 

“You know best,” Steve said. Sam grimaced at him. 

“Don’t say that.”

Bucky came back in through the back door and looked back and forth between them. His expression turned briefly suspicious before smoothing out. “I’m going to go shower,” he said. “When I get out - haircut?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, feeling perhaps a little overly pleased. Bucky vanished back up the stairs, and Sam gave Steve an incredulous look.

“Haircut?” 

“Buck wants to cut his hair off,” Steve said. “He asked me if I’d do it.” 

“Oh, man,” Sam said. “Have you ever cut anyone’s hair in your life?” 

“No,” Steve said. “I told him that, too. He said it doesn’t matter, that he just wants it short.” 

“Well, if it doesn’t matter to him how it looks, I guess,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, you’re hilarious,” Steve said, going to the cupboard to get more oatmeal. He listened to the rattle of the pipes as the water came on. “I thought it was a good thing.” 

“It probably is,” Sam said. “Doesn’t mean he’s going to come out looking any better.” Steve just shook his head, but smiled, a little. 

When Bucky came down maybe ten minutes later he looked moderately refreshed. Steve stood up maybe a little too quickly. “Do you want to eat oatmeal first?” He asked, unaccountably nervous. “Or…”

Bucky’s eyebrows twitched. “It’s not major surgery,” he said. “You’re just chopping off my hair. If I make you wait you’re probably just going to work yourself into a fit.” 

Steve’s face heated. “I’m not going to work myself into anything,” he objected. Bucky shrugged, and Steve made a face. “Okay, then. Sit down, I’ll...I picked up some scissors, let me go dig them out.” 

He ripped open the package and pulled the scissors out, frowning at them and wondering if they would even work or if you needed special scissors for hair. Then shook his head at himself. Bucky was right: it wasn’t major surgery, and he was making too much out of it. _So calm down and stop tripping over your own feet,_ he thought harshly, and went back to the kitchen.

“So I guess I’ll just...start?” He said awkwardly

“You could,” Bucky said dryly, and Steve felt stupid again. He glanced at Sam, who couldn’t - or at least wasn’t trying to - disguise his amusement. 

_How hard can it be,_ Steve thought, and started working, focusing on trying to keep everything even. 

“You’re making a muddle of that,” said Loki’s voice behind him. Steve jerked up, almost stabbing himself with the scissors.

“Welcome back,” Sam said, without looking up from his book. Steve bent around to look over his shoulder. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. Loki gestured at Bucky, who was also looking suspiciously over his shoulder, tensed like he was about to jump to his feet. 

“His hair,” he said. “It’s plain you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“And you do?” Bucky said, just a little aggressively. Loki’s lips twisted slightly toward a smile that really wasn’t. 

“Actually, yes,” he said, voice slightly clipped but steady. “I used to cut Thor’s hair for him.” He almost managed to mask the slight hitch in his voice over Thor’s name. Steve tried to picture that, and couldn’t quite make the image fit in his head. No matter how much he knew that Thor and Loki had years of history between them before he’d known either of them...it was still hard to wrap his head around. 

“So, what,” Bucky asked dryly. “Are you offering to give me a trim?” 

Loki shrugged. “I’d do a better job than he will.”

Steve felt himself flushing but stayed quiet, waiting. After a long pause Bucky twitched one shoulder and said, “sure, okay. Do your worst.” 

Loki’s eyebrows twitched, clearly he hadn’t expected that response, and didn’t quite know what to do with it, but after a moment he stepped forward and held out a hand toward Steve. He offered the scissors, though some part of him hesitated, half expecting that the second Loki took them he’d stab them into the back of Bucky’s neck. 

He didn’t, though, just took them and waited until Steve moved out of the way to take his place behind Bucky. Sam set down his book. 

“This I’ve gotta see,” he said. Steve retreated a few steps and sat down, trying to hide his worry. And his surprise. 

“Just don’t stab me on accident,” Bucky said. 

“If I stabbed you it would be on purpose,” Loki said, his voice dry, and Steve tensed, but after a beat Bucky snorted. 

“Figures. Okay. I want it short, all right?”

“Short like his or like his?” Loki asked, gesturing at Steve and then at Sam. Bucky shook his head. 

“Neither. Just...short.”

“Mm.” Loki’s expression shifted, focusing in a way that made Steve more aware of how he usually looked. The skittish watchfulness receded, and Steve wondered how much energy it must take to be that wound up all the time. 

Loki worked efficiently, but not in a rush. Neither of them talked, Bucky holding almost eerily still as locks of dark brown hair dropped to the floor. When Loki stepped back, lowering the scissors, Sam whistled. 

“Nice,” he said, approvingly. “Much better than the ‘unwashed hobo’ look you were rocking.” 

Bucky scowled. “Where’s a mirror?” He asked, getting up. Steve made himself stop staring. 

It was like Loki had cut off years instead of just hair. Bucky looked...it wasn’t exact, but it was close enough to what he remembered from the 40s, the way Buck had looked then, the way he’d looked when Steve had watched him fall into the abyss. It jarred something in him, producing a pang deep in his stomach. 

“Looks good,” he said, hoping it didn’t sound as strangled as it felt. 

Bucky glanced at him, eyes narrowed, and after a moment Loki flicked his fingers and something that at least looked like a mirror coalesced out of thin air. Bucky started back, then seemed to realize he was just looking at his own reflection. He ran his fingers through it like he was trying to slick it back, that gesture familiar too. 

“It does look pretty good,” he said, though he was frowning a little. Steve wondered if he was seeing it too. After a moment Bucky added, “thanks.” 

Loki glanced away with a little twitch of his shoulder. “I do not like to see a thing badly done.” 

“All right,” Steve said, summoning up a smile. “That’s enough making fun of my hairdressing skills.”

Loki didn’t smile, but Bucky snorted. The mirror vanished, and Bucky half reached out like he was going to poke at the air where it’d been. 

“How’d you do that?” 

“Magic,” Loki said. It sounded a little abrupt.

“Obviously,” Bucky said. “I meant - _how?_ ”

Loki’s expression turned slightly uncertain. “The technical explanation would be difficult for a layman to follow.” 

“Then give me the non-technical explanation,” Bucky said doggedly. Loki pressed his lips together, then relaxed them with what looked like an effort. 

“It’s a matter of reshaping the - fabric, the energy? of the universe. Adjusting the configuration, the way things fit together, to create an...opportunity, I suppose you could say.”

Bucky’s eyebrows pulled together. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“I told you it would be difficult to follow,” Loki said, sounding a little peevish. Bucky scowled at him. 

“You said the _technical_ explanation would be. But ‘reshaping the fabric of the universe’? What does that mean?” 

Loki made a frustrated noise and shook his head. “I am not a teacher and you don’t have the language to understand it.” 

“You explained it to me,” Steve said. “Sort of.” 

“I explained what magic _is,_ ” Loki said. “Not how it _works._ They are two very different things. There are people who devote their _lives_ to the simple theory of the latter, let alone its practice. Asgard’s library-” 

He cut off, very abruptly, his face closing again, and it was only when it did that Steve realized how much it had changed: opening, turning animated, if frustrated. He wanted to draw that out, Steve realized. Felt like he _should._ But asking more questions just seemed likely to hit too many sore spots.

“Actual _theory of magic,_ ” Sam said. “That sounds like some Hogwarts shit.” 

“Some what?” Bucky said. 

Sam groaned. “Steve, please tell me you know that reference.” Steve shook his head. Sam sighed and shook his head. “And here we are without even a VHS player. It’s a story about a wizard kid who goes to wizard school and takes classics about magic. I never got super into it, but I’d _love_ to see you read it and tell me everything they got wrong.” 

Loki’s expression shifted from suspicious to vaguely confused. He glanced at Steve as if to say _do you know what he’s talking about?_

“I’d rather know about real magic,” Bucky said stubbornly. 

“Why?” Loki asked. “You won’t be able to _do_ any.” 

Bucky looked a little disappointed. “Still,” he said, though. “It’s fucking _magic._ ” 

Steve realized too late that Loki had been getting tenser and tenser. “What are you doing?” He demanded. “Yesterday you were ready to cut my throat because of mind magic, and now you want to _learn?_ ”

“Not how to _do_ it.” Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “I tried to kill you. You killed some HYDRA agents for me. I’m letting it go.” 

Loki stared at him. “You’re insane,” he said.

“Look who’s talking,” Bucky said. 

“Hey,” Sam said, but Loki blinked and then started laughing. A moment later Bucky snorted and then started laughing, too. Steve looked at Sam, who shook his head. That just made Bucky laugh more, and even though Steve had no idea what was going on, the sound still made his heart lift a little. 

“You _are_ insane,” Loki said, when they’d both quieted down. 

“Well, yeah,” Bucky said. “You, me, probably the other two knuckleheads in the room who threw in with us. Whatever sanity looks like, we’re not even in the same state.”

Loki lips twitched, minutely. “So I should get used to the company, is that it?” 

“Something like that.” Bucky held out a hand. “I’ll call a truce if you will.” 

Loki eyed the hand like it might bite. Steve glanced at Sam, who was just watching them closely, too still to really be relaxed. After two long seconds, just as Bucky’s face started to tighten, Loki moved jerkily to take it. Only for a second before pulling away, but he still did it. 

“Right,” Bucky said. “Great.” He turned, looking at the two of them, and Steve almost held his breath. “What are you staring at? Don’t we have a house to fix?” 


End file.
